gREMENYI 

r  MUSICIAN  AND  MA^ 


APPRECIATION 


EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Musician,  Litterateur,  and  Man 
Att  ^pptttisitlan 


-'\:::^':.  7r 


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(  From  a  pholograph  taken  in  Riverside,  California,  in  1895) 


EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Musician,  Litterateur,  and  Man 
Att  Appr^natton 


WITH  SKETCHES  OF  HIS  LIFE  AND  ARTISTIC  CAREER,  BY  FRIENDS 

AND  CONTEMPORARIES,  TO  WHICH  ARE  ADDED  CRITICAL 

REVIEWS     OF    HIS    PLAYING    AND    SELECTIONS 

FROM     HIS     LITERARY     PAPERS     AND 

CORRESPONDENCE 


BY 

GWENDOLYN  DUNLEVY  KELLEY 

AND 


GEORGE  P.  UPTON 


Illustrated  from  Photographs 


CHICAGO 
A,  C.  McCLURG  &  CO, 

1906 


Copyright 

A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 

J906 

Published  April  14,  1906 


•  •       •„€ 


R.  R.  DONNELLEY  &  SONS  COMPANY 
CHICAGO 


CONTENTS 


Foreword ix 

Editor's  Note .       .       .  xi 

PART  I 
BIOGRAPHICAL  AND  APPRECIATIVE 

Biographical  Sketch.    George  P.  Upton       ...  9 

Master  and  Man.    Gwendolyn  Dunlevy  Kelley    .       .  30 

Life  Sketch.    Madame  Remenyi 40 

Reminiscences.  Colonel  Henry  J.  Kowalsky  ...  48 
Acquaintance    and    Friendship    with    Remenyi. 

Mary  Dunlevy  Kelley 57 

Sidelights  on  Remenyi  as  a  Man.    E.  T.  Cornelis    .  70 

Remenyi's  Home  and  its  Treasures.  ''  Un  Cosaque^*  74 
Remenyi,  Liszt,  and  Brahms.    Extract  from  ^'The 

New  York  Herald y"  January  18,1879      .       .       .  79 

Remenyi  as  a  Patriot.    Morris  Cukor  ....  96 

PART  II 
DEATH  OF  REMENYI  AND  TRIBUTES  TO  HIS  GENIUS 

Death  of  Remenyi.    Extract  from  *^The  New  York 

Herald"  May  16,  1898 loi 

Remenyi's  Death  on  the  Stage.    Colonel  Henry  J. 

Kowalsky 103 

The  Funeral  Services  in  New  York   .       .      .      .107 


292357 


vi  CONTENTS 

In  Memoriam.    *'Corvina'' iii 

Anecdotes  OF  Remenyi.    Dr.  Alexander  Rixa      .       .  113 

Further  Anecdotes  OF  Remenyi 121 

PART  III 
SKETCHES  AND  LETTERS 

Music 133 

Popular  Music 135 

Hindu  Music 147 

American  versus  European  Civilization      .       .       .156 

Italy  and  the  Golden  Era  of  the  Renaissance      .  160 

Architecture  Past  and  Present 163 

Greek  and  Japanese  Art 165 

Prediction  of  the  Future  of  the  United  States    .  167 

Love  of  Natural  Scenery 170 

Gabriele  d'Annunzio 172 

Father  Niagara 174 

An  Essay  on  Bach      .       .       .       .      .       .      .       .175 

Violins  and  Violin-making 178 

Paintings  —  Greuze  and  Rembrandt  .       .       .       .182 

Aphorisms 184 

Notes  and  Letters  written  to  a  Young  Friend      .  186 
Correspondence  between  Robert  G.  Ingersoll  and 

Remenyi,  i 880-1 898 203 

PART  IV 
PRESS  TRIBUTES,  LIST  OF  COMPOSITIONS,  ETC. 

Press  Tributes 213 

Remenyi 's  Compositions 242 

Programme  of  Remenyi 's  First  Concert  in  the 

United  States  (1850) 243 

INDEX 247 


LIST  OF  PORTRAITS 


PAGE 

Portrait  of  ReMENYI,  1895  .  .  .     Frontispiece 

Portrait  of  Remenyi,  1882        .        .        .        -  38 
Portrait  of  Remenyi  with  Brahms,  the  Com- 
poser, 1853 80 

Portrait  of  Remenyi  with  Maximilian   Vog- 

RiCH,  1879 94 

Death-mask  of  Remenyi 108 

Portrait  of  Remenyi  taken  in  Denver,  Colo- 
rado            118 

Portrait  of  Remenyi  with  his  Stradivarius,  i  89  i  178 
Portrait  of  Remenyi,  1897  .  .  .  .188 
Last   Portrait  of   Remenyi,   with    Madame 

Brehany,  1897 202 


FOREWORD 


IN  presenting  the  following  portions  of  letters  from 
Edouard  Remenyi,  and  supplementary  sketches 
kindly  furnished  by  a  few  of  his  friends,  I  wish  it  to 
be  understood  that  it  has  never  been  my  idea  to 
make  this  a  complete  biography.  It  is  rather  a 
gathering  up  and  weaving  together  of  the  leaves 
which  Remenyi  himself  had  requested  me  to  save  — 
the  skeleton  of  a  work  that  "might  have  been." 

Gwendolyn  Dunlevy  Kelley. 


EDITOR'S  NOTE 


AS  my  collaborator  says,  this  work  is  not  to  be 
regarded  as  a  biography  in  the  ordinary  mean- 
ing of  that  word.  It  is  simply  a  collection  of  bio- 
graphical documents,  many  of  them  intrusted  to  her 
by  Remenyi,  others  contributed  at  her  solicitation  by 
his  personal  friends  and  members  of  his  family.  It 
was  his  desire  that  this  material  should  be  preserved, 
and  it  was  unquestionably  his  intention  some  day  to 
use  it  in  making  a  story  of  his  life.  That  day  unfor- 
tunately never  came,  but  his  friend,  Miss  Kelley, 
knowing  his  purpose,  collected  the  material  after 
his  death,  added  her  own  enthusiastic  tribute,  and 
intrusted  the  whole  to  me  to  be  edited.  This  I  have 
done,  carrying  out  to  the  best  of  my  ability  the  pur- 
pose merely  of  preserving  the  documentary  informa- 
tion necessary  for  a  complete  biography  of  the  artist 
and  of  furnishing  a  valuable  work  of  reference  for 
musical  students. 

George  P.  Upton. 

Chicago,  February  i,  1906. 


EDOUARD    REMENYI 

Musician,  Litterateur,  and  Man 


PART  I 
BIOGRAPHICAL  AND  APPRECIATIVE 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

EDOUARD  REMENYI  was  born  at  Miskolcz, 
Hungary,  July  17,  1830.  He  was  of  Jewish 
descent,  son  of  John  and  Rosalie  Hoffmann,  and  at 
some  later  period  Hungarianized  his  name  to  Re- 
menyi.*  The  earliest  reports  aflSrm  that  he  began 
the  study  of  music  in  Eger,  Heves  County,  at  the  age 
of  seven,  but  his  childhood  was  mainly  spent  in  Mis- 
kolcz, capital  of  the  county  of  Borsod.  That  he 
should  have  Hungarianized  his  name  is  not  strange. 
To  the  end  of  his  adventurous  life,  though  always 
a  restless  wanderer,  appearing  and  disappearing  in 
the  strangest  manner,  he  was  an  ardent  Hungarian, 
and  his  national  sentiment  was  reflected  alike  in  his 
life  and  in  his  music. 

*  Riemann,  in  the  latest  edition  of  his  "  Dictionary  of  Music"  enters 
Remenyi  as  follows:  "  Remenyi,  Edouard  {Hoffmann,  called  R.),  famous 
violinist,"  etc. 


lo  •.'    EPpUAHl?  .REMENYI 

Rexiieia^djsi'ii^itsical  tare^r  began  in  1839,  about 
which  time  he  entered  the  Vienna  Conservatory, 
where  he  studied  the  violin  under  Joseph  Bohm, 
the  teacher  of  Joachim  and  Laube.  Some  writers 
state  that  he  was  at  this  time  a  pupil  of  Joachim's, 
which  is  manifestly  incorrect,  as  both  entered  the 
Conservatory  at  about  the  same  time,  Remenyi 
being  then  nine  and  Joachim  eight  years  of  age. 
Little  is  known  of  Remenyi's  work  in  the  Conserva- 
tory, except  that  he  carried  off  one  or  two  prizes. 
That  he  made  satisfactory  progress  is  certain,  for 
shortly  after  his  graduation  he  gave  concerts  at 
Pesth  with  great  success. 

The  year  1848  was  an  eventful  one  in  the  young 
artist's  life.  The  uprising  against  Austria,  organ- 
ized by  Kossuth  and  others,  appealed  to  Remenyi, 
as  it  did  to  all  young  Hungarians,  and  roused  his 
patriotic  fervor.  As  soon  as  the  opportunity  offered 
itself,  he  took  service  under  General  Gorgey,  who 
succeeded  Kossuth  as  dictator,  and  acted  as  a  kind 
of  musical  aide-de-camp  to  that  officer.  The  revo- 
lutionary army  hailed  him  as  its  camp  violinist. 
His  superior  officer  also  evidently  considered  his 
violin  a  more  effective  agency  in  the  service  than  his 
sword,  for  he  would  not  permit  him  to  go  into  battle. 
There  are  stories  that,  carried  away  by  enthusiasm, 
he  sometimes  eluded  Gorgey's  vigilance  and  was 
found  on  the  field,  but  even  there  he  was  carefully 
protected;    Gorgey  knew  the  value  of  his  musical 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  ii 

services,  and  saved  him  from  any  unnecessary  risks. 
So  his  time  was  mainly  occupied  in  keeping  up  the 
spirits  of  the  revolutionists  by  playing  the  "czardas  " 
about  the  watchfires,  or  the  "  Racokzy  march " 
from  village  to  village  with  its  stirring  call  to  arms. 
That  the  Government  appreciated  the  dangerous 
possibilities  of  his  playing  in  spreading  the  insurrec- 
tionary spirit  is  shown  by  its  effort  to  suppress  it,  but 
he  escaped  its  vigilance.  The  revolution  was  short- 
lived, however.  The  final  surrender  was  made  at 
Vilagos,  August  13,  1849. 

Like  many  another,  Remenyi  was  obliged  to  ex- 
patriate himself  and  seek  refuge  in  the  United  States, 
where  he  supported  himself  by  the  practice  of  his 
art.  His  first  concert  was  given  at  Niblo's  Garden, 
New  York,  January  19,  1850,  with  the  assistance 
of  Mme.  Stephani,  a  soprano  vocalist,  H.  C.  Timm, 
pianist,  and  William  Scharfenberg,  pianist  and 
violinist, —  two  of  the  ablest  musicians  of  that  time, 
—  and  an  orchestra  led  by  Theodore  Eisfeld,  one  of 
the  pioneers  of  orchestral  music  in  this  country. 
He  remained  in  the  United  States  but  six  months 
and  then  returned  to  Europe. 

The  year  1853  marked  an  eventful  period  in 
Remenyi's  life.  Early  in  that  year  he  was  giving 
concerts  in  Hamburg.  Upon  one  occasion,  his  ac- 
companist being  ill,  he  made  inquiries  among  the 
local  musicians  for  a  substitute  and  was  referred  to 
Brahms,  who  was  at  that  time  teaching  music  and 


12  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

much  in  need  of  money.  Brahms  readily  accepted 
Remenyi's  offer,  and  so  commended  himself  by  his 
great  ability  that  the  latter  was  delighted  with  him 
and  suggested  that  they  should  make  a  concert  tour. 
Brahms,  who  was  as  young,  as  enthusiastic,  and  as 
poor  as  his  associate,  at  once  accepted  the  proposition. 
They  left  Hamburg  in  the  Spring  of  1853  for  Weimar, 
paying  their  travelling  expenses  by  giving  concerts; 
for  Remenyi  had  still  another  object  in  view.  He 
wished  to  go  to  Weimar  to  introduce  to  Liszt  the 
genius  he  had  discovered.  Upon  reaching  Hanover 
Remenyi  called  upon  Joachim,  who  had  been  his 
fellow-student  in  Vienna,  and  asked  him  for  a  letter 
of  introduction  for  Brahms  and  himself  to  King 
George,  who  was  quite  a  musical  amateur.  The 
two  played  before  His  Majesty,  who  applauded 
Remenyi's  performance  but  failed  to  recognize 
Brahms's  ability,  though  subsequently  he  was  forced 
to  concede  it.  Arriving  at  Weimar,  they  promptly 
called  upon  Liszt  and  were  given  the  hospitality  of 
his  home.  Upon  their  first  meeting  they  played  to 
Liszt,  and  Liszt  in  turn  played  some  of  Brahms^s 
compositions,  among  them  a  sonata,  during  the 
performance  of  which  Brahms  went  to  sleep.  Sub- 
sequently he  explained  his  discourteous  act  by  say- 
ing that  he  was  too  fatigued  by  his  journey  to  keep 
awake.  Liszt,  however,  was  so  unfavorably  dis- 
posed toward  Brahms  on  account  of  his  seeming 
slight  that  Remenyi  urged  his  companion  to  make 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  13 

a  change.  He  wrote  at  once  to  Joachim,  asking 
him  to  give  Brahms  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
Schumann.  With  this  letter,  which  prepared  the 
way  for  his  subsequent  success,  Brahms  left  for 
Diisseldorf,  Remenyi  remaining  with  Liszt.  The 
first  tidings  they  heard  from  Brahms  was  contained 
in  the  famous  article,  "  Neue  Bahnen,"  which 
Schumann  wrote  for  the  Leipsic,  "Neue  Zeitschrift 
flir  Musik,"  in  which  he  hailed  Brahms  as  the 
"  New  Messiah  of  Music."  This  is  the  version  of 
their  relations  substantially  as  given  by  Remenyi 
himself. 

There  are  other  versions  of  this  interesting  episode. 
Joachim  himself  has  contributed  a  statement  to  the 
new  edition  of  Grove's  "  Dictionary  of  Music," 
saying  in  effect  that  while  Remenyi  and  Brahms 
were  at  Hanover  they  visited  him.  He  felt  that 
Brahms  had  a  great  future  before  him,  and  that 
association  with  Remenyi,  whose  career  was  to  be 
that  of  a  virtuoso,  would  not  suit  his  tastes.  He 
therefore  suggested  to  Brahms,  if  at  any  time  he 
should  wish  for  more  congenial  work,  to  let  him 
know.  Some  weeks  after  this,  Brahms  visited 
Joachim  at  Gottingen,  and  at  the  close  of  his  stay 
his  host  gave  him  a  letter  to  Schumann. 

Dr.  Herman  Deiters,  in  his  biographical  sketch 
of  Brahms,  says: 

"  In  1853  he  left  home  to  accompany  the  Hungarian  violinist  Re- 
menyi on  a  concert  tour.  During  his  tour  he  visited  among  other  places 


14  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Hanover,  Gottingen,  and  Weimar,  and  by  his  playing  and  composi- 
tions, attracted  the  attention  of  Joachim  and  Liszt.  The  former 
was  especially  struck,  when,  in  Gottingen,  on  account  of  the  low 
pitch  of  the  piano,  Brahms  transposed  Beethoven's  "  Kreutzer 
Sonata,"  without  having  the  notes  before  him,  from  A  into  B  flat. 
This  success  resulted  in  his  severing  his  connection  with  Remenyi 
and  going  to  Dusseldorf  in  October,  1853,  with  an  introduction  from 
Joachim  to  Schumann." 

It  should  not  be  difficult  to  understand  the  reasons 
for  the  separation  of  Remenyi  and  Brahms.  Not- 
withstanding Brahms's  unfortunate  experience  at  his 
first  meeting  with  Liszt  —  which  is  confirmed  by 
William  Mason,  at  that  time  a  pupil  of  Liszt  —  the 
latter  was  greatly  interested  in  his  music.  Joachim 
had  also  recognized  his  superior  ability;  and  when 
Schumann  not  only  recognized  it,  but  recorded  his 
prophecy  concerning  "  this  chosen  youth,  over  whose 
cradle  the  Graces  and  Heroes  seem  to  have  kept 
watch,"  is  it  strange  that  Brahms  should  have  felt 
that  he  had  come  to  the  parting  of  the  ways  with  his 
companion,  who  was  a  gypsy  by  nature  and  a  virtuoso 
by  profession,  and  that  he  must  take  the  "  new  paths  " 
which  were  to  lead  him  to  creative  success  ?  This 
much,  however,  must  be  placed  to  Remenyi's  credit, 
he  was  the  first  to  recognize  Brahms's  ability.  With 
all  the  enthusiasm  of  his  impulsive  nature  he  de- 
clared to  Liszt  that  he  had  discovered  a  genius. 
He  made  him  known  to  Joachim  and  Liszt,  and 
through  them  to  Schumann,  who  made  him  known 
to  the  world.    Remenyi  never  cherished  resentment 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  15 

against  Brahms  for  ignoring  him.  A  short  time 
before  his  death  he  began  to  write  a  complete  ac- 
count of  his  personal  relations  with  Brahms  for 
Mr.  W.  S.  B.  Matthews's  magazine,  "  Music,"  but 
he  finished  only  an  introductory  fragment.  It  con- 
tains the  following  striking  characterization  as  well 
as  friendly  tribute  to  his  old  companion : 

"  Taking  a  broad  view  of  him,  Brahms  was  a  man;  a  manly  nature 
in  contrast  to  the  degenerate  effemination  of  present-day  art;  a 
sturdy  North  German,  sound  to  the  roots,  detesting  pretences  and 
mannerisms,  an  enemy  of  empty  phrases;  distinguished,  forcible  in 
character,  strong  in  will  and  sentiment;  a  man  possessing  under  a 
hard  and  rough  exterior  a  warm  and  throbbing  heart.  Thus  in 
Brahms  the  requirements  for  a  true  artist  are  an  inseparable  unit. 
Equipped  with  the  highest  artistic  endowments,  genius,  and  origi- 
nality, having  the  power  which  can  create  and  need  not  borrow,  en- 
dowed with  artistic  culture  in  all  its  ramifications,  he  has  created 
masterpieces,  long  secure  in  the  sacred  shrine  of  German  music; 
treasures  wrought  of  precious  metal,  remaining  untarnished  forever. 
Brahms's  systematic  development  reminds  one  forcibly  of  the 
evolution  of  Beethoven;  a  healthy  instinct  conjoined  with  im- 
perturbable self-criticism  always  guarded  him  against  mistake; 
and,  although  a  bom  lyrist,  he  withstood  the  alluring  voice  of  the 
stage,  and  never  was  faithless  to  his  mission." 

In  passing,  it  is  pleasant  to  note  the  high  opinion 
Liszt  formed  of  Remenyi  as  an  artist.  In  1854  he 
writes  to  Karl  Klind worth: 

"Your  Murl*  connection  and  Murl-wanderings  with  Remenyi 
are  an  excellent  dispensation  of  fate,  and  on  July  6,  the  day  of 
your  concert  at  Leicester,  the  Weimar  Murls  shall  be  invited  to  supper 
at  the  Altenberg,  and  Remenyi  and  Klindworth  shall  be  toasted  for 
ever." 

*  Liszt  was  the  President  of  the  Murls,  or  anti-Philistines,  in  Weimar. 


i6  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Ten  years  later,    writing    to  Franz  Brendel,  he 

says: 

"  Of  all  the  violinists  I  know  I  could  scarcely  name  three  who 
could  equal  him  as  regards  effect." 

Five  years  later  still  he  writes  to  Johann  Von  Her- 
beck: 

"  He  has  delighted  and  captivated  every  one  here,  the  critics  as 
well  as  the  public,  and  that  is  verily  no  small  matter,  for  in  Weimar 
we  are  accustomed  to  the  most  distinguished  violin-virtuosos."  ~ 

Liszt  refers  to  him  still  more  explicitly  and 
enthusiastically  in  "  The  Gypsies  and  their  Music 
in  Hungary": 

"While  the  time  seems  to  be  near  at  hand  when  the  national 
character  of  the  different  schools  shall  disappear  and  Bohemian 
music  become  a  thing  of  the  past,  I  have  met  with  lively  satisfaction 
a  young  Hungarian,  who  has  retained  suflScient  individuality  and 
spontaneousness  to  warrant  that  he  will  be  written  of  some  day  in 
the  same  strain  as  Csermak.  Remen)^,  although  not  a  Romany, 
has  become  imbued  with  Bohemian  feeling  and  art.  I  have  never 
heard  him  without  experiencing  an  emotion  which  revived  the  re- 
collection left  by  Bihary In  spite  of  the  applause  with  which 

he  has  invariably  been  greeted,  he  appears  to  be  one  of  the  few 
artists  who  have  a  higher  object  than  to  make  themselves  a  name  by 
means  of  which  to  amass  a  fortune,  and  who  throughout  their  life 
are  never  done  with  progress,  but  keep  on  steadily  toward  a  superior 
ideal.  ...  To  reproduce  Bohemian  art  as  it  ruled  in  Hungary  in  its 
brightest  days,  something  very  different  from  the  colorless  and  com- 
monplace imitations  of  the  modem  artist  is  needed.  Remenyi  is 
gifted  with  a  vivacious,  generous  disposition  which  rebels  against 
monotony,  and  whose  originality  shows  through  everything  and  in 
spite  of  everything.  This  is  a  token  of  the  vitality  of  his  talent  and 
insures  him  a  special  place  in  the  gallery  of  men  who  have  given  new 
life  to  a  deserved  branch  of  art." 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  17 

This  statement  shows  the  interest  which  was  taken 
about  this  period  in  Magyar  music,  of  which  Remenyi, 
not  only  then,  but  to  the  end  of  his  life,  was  an  ar- 
dent exponent.  It  has  always  had  an  influence 
upon  modem  music,  and  even  upon  the  classical 
masters,  Haydn,  Beethoven,  Schubert,  and  others; 
but  it  is  most  conspicuously  shown  in  the  music  of 
the  Liszt  period,  notably  in  that  composer's  oratorio, 
"  The  Legend  of  Saint  Elizabeth,"  his  symphonic 
poem"  Hungaria,"  and  the  "  Rhapsodies  Hongroises" ; 
the  "Hungarian  Concerto"  of  Joachim;  and  the 
"  Hungarian  Dances "  arranged  by  Brahms  in  a 
German  setting,  as  well  as  in  other  chamber  and 
pianoforte  work  of  this  strictly  German  composer. 
It  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  the  latter's  association 
with  Remenyi  inspired  the  "  Ungarische  Tanze." 
To  be  convinced  of  this  it  is  only  necessary  to  recall 
the  spirited  controversy  twenty-five  years  ago,  when 
Brahms  was  accused  of  plagiarism  by  Remenp  and 
his  friends,  who  alleged,  not  merely  that  he  had  pub- 
lished Magyar  folk  songs  as  his  own,  but  had  ap- 
propriated some  of  Remenyi's  own  melodies. 

Now  Remenyi's  "  wander  years  "  began.  From 
1854  to  i860  he  was  engaged  in  concert  tours  upon 
the  Continent  and  in  England,  where  he  not  only 
gave  concerts  of  his  own  but  played  several  times 
in  the  Philharmonic  series.  His  English  career 
was  crowned  by  the  honor  of  appointment  as  solo 
violinist  to  music-loving  Queen  Victoria.    In  i860 


i8  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

he  was  amnestied  and  returned  to  Hungary,  where 
he  was  welcomed  most  enthusiastically  by  the  peo- 
ple. His  political  offences  had  not  been  so  grave, 
nor  his  service  in  the  army,  so  unpardonable,  as  to 
constitute  him  persona  non  grata  with  the  Austrian 
government  eleven  years  after  the  suppression  of  the 
rebellion.  On  the  contrary,  the  Emperor  followed 
the  example  of  Queen  Victoria  and  appointed  him 
chamber  musician  and  solo  violinist  in  the  Court 
band.  He  made  few  public  appearances,  however, 
at  this  time,  preferring  for  some  reason  to  retire  to 
an  estate  which  he  owned  in  Hungary.  In  1864 
we  hear  of  him  in  Rome ;  Liszt  writes  of  his  playing 
there  with  great  success  at  the  Teatro  Argentina, 
and  a  month  or  two  later  he  mentions  his  concerts  at 
Carlsruhe.  In  1865  Remenyi  emerged  once  more 
into  the  full  glare  of  the  musical  world  and  made 
his  first  appearance  in  Paris,  where  his  salon  con- 
certs raised  a  perfect  furore  among  the  French  aris- 
tocracy. Concerts  followed  in  Germany,  Belgium, 
Holland,  and  other  countries,  which  added  greatly  to 
his  reputation  and  gave  him  a  prominent  place 
among  virtuosos.  In  1869  Liszt  speaks  of  him  in 
Weimar,  and  in  1870  he  was  back  in  London  re- 
peating his  former  successes.  Early  in  the  seven- 
ties he  had  an  orchestra  at  Budapest. 

In  1872  he  was  married  to  Miss  Gisella  de  Fay 
de  Faj,  daughter  of  a  famous  Hungarian  musician, 
by  whom  he  had  two  children,  twins,  Adrienne  and 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  19 

Tibor.  His  friendship  with  Liszt  at  this  time  was 
somewhat  weakened,  though  Liszt  was  at  his  wed- 
ding and  wrote  some  special  music  for  the  occasion. 
He  was  also  concertizing  with  Liszt  in  1872  and 
assisted  at  his  jubilee  in  Budapest. 

Remenyi's  movements  were  never  made  by  sched- 
ule. Routine  was  impossible  in  his  imcertain  career. 
Hence  it  was  never  safe  to  predict  where  he  would 
be  from  one  season  to  another.  In  the  latter  part 
of  1873  he  made  a  home  tour.  In  1874  he  was  in 
Egypt,  and  played  to  the  Arabs  on  the  great  Cheops 
pyramid.  In  1875  ^^  was  in  Paris,  playing  in  the 
salons  and  the  Pasdeloup  concerts.  In  the  Spring  of 
1877  London  heard  him  again,  and  in  the  Summer 
he  was  back  in  Paris.  In  the  Summer  of  1878  he 
played  in  the  Riviere  concerts,  Covent  Garden, 
London.  In  the  Autumn  of  that  year  he  made  his 
second  visit  to  the  United  States,  giving  his  first 
concert  at  Steinway  Hall,  New  York,  November  11. 
During  the  next  few  weeks  he  played  in  the  New 
York  Philharmonic  concerts;  in  the  Brooklyn  Phil- 
harmonic concerts  under  Theodore  Thomas's  baton ; 
in  the  Carlberg  symphony  concerts,  in  Boston,  Hart- 
ford, and,  in  the  latter  part  of  December,  in  Washing- 
ton, where  he  was  the  guest  of  President  Hayes  at  the 
White  House.  The  following  year  he  continued 
his  American  tour,  playing  in  New  York,  Albany, 
Troy,  Buffalo,  Cincinnati,  Chicago,  Quincy,  Illinois, 
Burlington,  Iowa,  and  other  cities.    In  1880  he  went 


20  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

as  far  west  as  Colorado  and  greatly  enjoyed  himself 
in  the  mining  camps,  where  he  made  himself  a  favorite 
with  the  miners  by  his  impromptu  performances. 

Then  followed  another  of  his  mysterious  disap- 
pearances. The  next  tidings  of  the  wanderer  came 
from  Australia,  where  he  had  made  a  new  discovery — 
the  brilliant  vocalist,  Melba.  The  next  year  he  was 
in  India,  and  from  1886  to  1890,  where  was  he  not? 
There  are  records  of  him  in  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
Japan,  China,  Cochin  China,  Tasmania,  New 
Zealand,  Burmah,  Singapore,  Java,  Mauritius,  the 
Philippines,  Ceylon,  Madagascar,  South  Africa, 
where  he  made  a  fresh  discovery  —  this  time,  violins, 

—  and  numerous  other  remote  places.  His  move- 
ments were  always  mysterious.  There  would  be 
long  silences;  then  would  come  detailed  reports  of  his 
death.  How  many  times  he  was  shipwrecked,  cap- 
tured by  savages  and  assassinated !  How  many  times 
he  vanished  from  human  sight!  How  many  times 
he  was  reported  deserted  and  dying  in  strange 
countries!  Soon,  however,  he  would  be  announced 
as  playing  in  some  place  on  the  far  edge  of  the  world, 

—  always  happy,  always  finding  something  beautiful, 
always  a  roamer,  always  a  gypsy.  In  1891  his  Far 
Eastern  travels  were  over  and  he  went  back  to  Lon- 
don. He  stayed  there  a  few  weeks,  and  then,  after 
sixteen  years  of  absence,  went  to  Hungary  and  home, 
if  he  can  be  said  to  have  had  a  home! 

Remenyi  was  now  sixty-one  years  of  age.    He  had 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  21 

travelled  the  world  over,  had  delighted  many  strange 
peoples  with  his  playing,  had  been  a  favorite  every- 
where, and,  notwithstanding  his  restlessness  and 
eccentricity  of  habit  had  made  an  excellent  reputa- 
tion and  occupied  a  prominent  place  among  violin 
virtuosos.  It  would  have  been  better  perhaps,  had 
he  retired  from  the  stage  and  been  contented  to  set- 
tle down  in  Hungary.  But  he  was  not  a  man  to 
settle  down.  The  Wanderlust  was  always  strong 
in  his  nature.  Though  not  a  Romany  he  had  the 
Romany  spirit,  and  to  wander  about  and  see  beauti- 
ful things  and  play  his  violin  was  a  necessity  to  him, 
even  now  when  no  one  knew  better  than  he  that  his 
powers  were  on  the  wane  and  that  the  spell  of  his 
playing  was  disappearing. 

Remenyi's  long  career  of  more  than  half  a  century 
came  to  its  close  in  this  country.  In  March,  1898, 
he  was  in  Boston.  It  was  his  initial  engagement 
in  vaudeville  entertainment,  but  he  drew  a  better 
class  of  auditors  than  is  usually  to  be  found  in  vaude- 
ville houses,  and  among  them  many  musicians.  He 
played  with  much  of  his  old  fire  and  animal  spirits, 
for  to  the  last  he  played  as  if  he  were  playing  to  him- 
self, who  was  greatly  enjoying  it;  but  to  many  of  his 
hearers  the  fineness  of  his  art  passed  without  appre- 
ciation. 

In  the  following  May  he  played  in  San  Francisco 
at  the  Orpheum  Theatre,  another  vaudeville  house, 
to  large  and  enthusiastic  audiences.    He  was  not 


22  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

well  when  he  arrived  there.  On  the  fifteenth  he 
went  to  the  concert  against  his  physician's  advice. 
His  reception  was  extremely  cordial,  but  it  was  ap- 
parent that  he  was  not  in  his  customary  good  spirits. 
After  playing  the  "  Liberty  Hymn  "  he  was  recalled 
and  had  played  a  few  bars  from  Delibes'  "  Piz- 
zicato" in  the  "Sylvia"  suite,  when  he  suddenly 
fell  forward  unconscious  and  died  soon  after  of  apo- 
plexy. His  body  was  sent  to  New  York.  Memorial 
services  were  held  in  the  Lenox  Lyceum,  and  he  was 
buried  in  Evergreen  Cemetery,  May  29.  His  long 
wanderings  were  over. 

He  passed  away  as  he  wished,  playing  his  loved 
instrument.  For  more  than  sixty  years  the  violin 
had  been  his  inseparable  companion;  and  the  fa- 
vorite instrument  of  his  collection,  a  Stradivarius, 
always  rested  in  its  case  upon  a  leaf  of  his  favorite 
palms. 

Sir  George  Grove  in  his  "  Dictionary  of  Music 
and  Musicians "  aptly  characterizes  Remenyi  as 
"  the  wandering  musician  par  excellence ,  and  at 
intervals,  when  the  whim  takes  him,  he  will  disappear 
from  public  view  altogether.  But  although  some- 
what of  the  nature  of  a  comet,  he  is  undoubtedly  a 
star  of  the  first  magnitude  in  his  own  sphere."  The 
same  authority  is  also  correct  when  he  says:  "  Alto- 
gether his  genius  will  be  most  appreciated  in 
the  drawing-room,  where  his  marked  individuality  is 
felt  more  immediately  than  in  a  big  concert  hall." 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  23 

A  comet  in  the  musical  firmament  certainly  he  was  ; 
moving  in  no  regular  orbit,  his  disappearances 
strange,  his  coming  and  going  not  to  be  calculated, 
governed  by  none  of  the  fixed  laws  that  govern  the 
other  stars,  subject  only  to  his  own  vagrant  fancies, 
the  Romany  of  music.  He  never  travelled  the 
beaten  tracks  laid  out  by  managers.  His  own  fan- 
cies were  his  managers,  and  they  were  as  uncertain 
as  the  winds.  One  month  in  Parisian  salons,  the 
next  found  him  among  strange  peoples  in  the  Orient. 
The  only  certain  thing  in  Remenyi's  musical  life  was 
that  he  would  not  be  where  he  ought  to  be  at  a  given 
time,  and  that  he  was  just  where  he  wished  to  be. 

It  is  not  easy  to  describe  Remenyi's  playing.  His 
technique  was  so  phenomenal  that  difliculties  did  not 
exist  for  him.  His  tone  was  bright,  appealing,  and 
penetrating,  and  its  beautiful  quality  was  enhanced 
by  his  always  superior  instruments.  He  was  not 
a  severely  correct  and  intellectual  player  like  Cesar 
Thompson  or  Wilhelmj,  for  instance,  both  of  whom 
he  greatly  admired,  by  way  of  contrast  to  his  own 
style,  which  was  emotional,  impulsive,  passionate,  and 
altogether  temperamental;  now  vigorous  and  virile, 
again  poetical  and  dreamy,  according  to  the  mood 
of  the  moment.  He  had  extravagances  at  times,  as 
emotional  players  often  do.  He  had  mannerisms 
also,  but  they  were  the  mannerisms  of  his  moods,  not 
mannerisms  for  effect  upon  the  thoughtless,  like 
those  of    the  pianist,  De  Pachmann,  for    instance. 


24  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

At  one  moment  he  would  be  very  serious,  and  then, 
as  the  character  of  the  music  changed,  he  would 
smile  and  talk  to  himself.  Probably  no  one  enjoyed 
Remenyi's  playing  more  than  Remenyi  himself.  He 
was  a  worshipper  of  beauty,  a  musical  poet  whose 
fancies  were  informed  by  the  Oriental  spirit,  and  who 
was  prone  to  follow  where  those  fancies  led.  Hence 
while  the  classics  were  in  his  repertory  —  and  he 
played  Bach  and  Beethoven  with  fine  efiect  —  he  was 
more  at  home  in  warmly  colored  and  strongly  ac- 
centuated music.  In  such  works,  which,  unlike  the 
classics,  did  not  restrain  him  within  limits,  and  which 
gave  free  rein  to  his  fancies,  he  was  at  his  best.  Sir 
George  Grove  was  right  when  he  said  that  Remenyi's 
marked  individuality  would  be  felt  more  imme- 
diately in  a  drawing-room  than  in  a  big  concert  hall. 
He  always  made  himself  felt  most  strongly  by  his 
individual  appeal.  He  knew  this  himself.  A  friend 
once  said  to  him:  "  You  can  do  a  thing  awfully  well 
when  your  technique  is  good;  but  when  you  have 
lived  it,  you  can  make  your  audience  do  it  with  you." 
Remenyi  replied:  "There  is  sure  to  be  in  every 
audience  at  least  one  heart  to  which  I  may  talk. 
That  is  enough.  I  fix  my  eyes  upon  him.  We  un- 
derstand each  other;  or,  I  may  not  see  him,  but  he  is 
there.  I  feel  it.  As  to  the  rest,  if  they  do  not  under- 
stand, I  will  make  them  feel." 

Effective  as  Remenyi  was  in  a  concert  room,  and 
powerfully  as  he  could  sway  an  audience  by  the 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  25 

magic  of  his  bow,  he  was  at  his  best  in  private  when 
he  was  thoroughly  in  the  mood  and  those  present 
were  congenial.  I  have  heard  him  more  than  a 
score  of  times  in  concert  halls,  alone,  and  with  or- 
chestral accompaniment,  but  never  have  I  heard  him 
play  with  such  spirit  and  effect,  and,  I  should  add, 
with  such  artistic  conscientiousness,  as  one  afternoon 
in  1878  at  a  friend's  house,*  when,  with  Max  Vogrich 
at  the  piano,  he  played  hour  after  hour,  walking  the 
floor  at  times  and  talking  softly  to  himself,  or  smiling 
and  addressing  a  pertinent  word  to  some  one  present. 
During  that  memorable  afternoon  he  played  selec- 
tions from  the  repertory  of  violin  works  from  the 
Bach  Chaconne  down  to  his  favorite  czardas,  besides 
one  or  two  extraordinary  compositions  by  Vogrich.f 
Remenyi  was  not  a  voluminous  composer.  Julius 
Fuchs,  in  his  valuable  "  Kritik  der  Tonwerke," 
classifies  but  five  of  his  works,  m..  Fantasia,  "  Les 
Huguenots,"  which  is  dedicated  to  the  Emperor  of 
Germany;  "  Valse  Nobile";  "  Introduction  and 
Marche  Hongroise  ";  Fantasia,  "  Barber  of  Seville," 
and  "  Liberty  Hymn."  He  wrote  others,  mostly 
manuscript,  among  them  "  Death  of  Gezirel  Has- 
san," "  A  Tragedy,"  "  Hungarian  Hymn,"  three 

*  Upon  this  occasion  Theodore  Thomas,  Otto  Singer,  Julius  Fuchs, 
A.  W.  Dohn,  and  Anna  Mehlig,  the  pianist,  were  present. 

t  Max  Vogrich,  at  this  time  a  young  man  touring  with  Remenyi,  was 
making  a  stir  in  the  world  with  his  piano-playing  and  compositions. 
Since  that  time  he  has  written  three  operas,  an  oratorio,  a  mass,  ten  sym- 
phonies, several  concertos,  songs,  piano  pieces,  etc. 


26  EDOUARD   REMENYI 

"  Morceaux  Hongrois,"  and  two  violin  concertos; 
and  he  had  planned  a  series  of  twelve  compositions, 
illustrating  the  span  of  life,  which  began  with  a  Cas- 
tilian  dance  measure.  He  also  wrote  several  tran- 
scriptions of  the  Field  nocturnes,  and  Chopin  waltzes 
and  polonaises,  an  arrangement  of  a  Gregorian  chant, 
as  well  as  transcriptions  from  Bach's  and  Schubert's 
music,  some  of  which  were  incorporated  in  a  work 
arranged  by  him  and  entitled  "  Nouvelle  Ecole  du 
Violon."  He  wrote  many  Hungarian  melodies 
which  have  been  freely  appropriated  by  other  com- 
posers as  folk-music.  Indeed,  if  his  Hungarian 
compositions  and  arrangements  could  be  collected 
and  carefully  edited  they  would  prove  an  important 
addition  to  the  music  of  that  nationality.  It  was  in 
transcription  that  Remenyi  chiefly  excelled. 

Remenyi's  personality  was  curiously  engaging. 
He  was  somewhat  short  of  stature  and  stout  of 
build,  though  one  of  the  most  abstemious  of  men  in 
his  habits.*  He  had  a  large,  well-shaped  head, 
smooth  face,  somewhat  heavy  features,  and  bright, 
expressive  eyes.  He  looked  more  like  a  well  con- 
ditioned monastery  brother  than  a  musician;  indeed, 
he  affected  none  of  the  physical  eccentricities  or  odd 

*  upon  one  occasion  a  dinner  was  given  for  him  at  one  of  the  principal 
hotels  in  Chicago.  His  host  had  arranged  a  most  elaborate  menu.  The 
oysters,  soup,  fish,  and  wine  were  declined  by  him  successively  to  the  as- 
tonishment of  the  party;  when  the  entrees  were  reached  Remenyi,  who  had 
been  the  life  of  the  occasion,  took  from  his  pocket  a  small  bag  of  crackers, 
asked  the  waiter  to  bring  him  a  glass  of  milk,  and  these  constituted  his 
dinner. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  27 

habits  sometimes  employed  by  musicians  and  artists 
for  sensational  impression.  He  was  impulsive  and 
spontaneous  in  manner,  and  naive  and  original  in  his 
speech,  and  particularly  so  in  his  letters,  which  are 
curious  for  their  mixture  of  slang  and  polyglot  (he 
was  master  of  several  languages),  odd  spellings  and 
capitalizations,  bright  flashes  of  wit,  poor  puns,  and 
brusqueness  and  childlikeness  of  expression.  He 
was  generous  to  a  fault,  nearly  always  happy  and 
genial,  diplomatic  in  his  social  contact,  a  man  of  the 
world  and  a  thorough  cosmopolitan.  Considering 
the  years  he  had  devoted  to  travel,  his  love  of  pleasure 
and  his  wide  range  of  experience  in  all  parts  of  the 
world,  it  is  surprising  that  he  preserved  such  a  re- 
markable freshness  of  spirit  and  keenness  of  enjoy- 
ment to  the  last.  He  was  devotedly  fond  of  travel, 
a  close  observer  of  men  and  nature,  and  a  worshipper 
of  beauty  in  all  its  forms.  He  was  a  connoisseur  in 
many  directions  and  made  valuable  collections  of 
pictures,  bric-a-brac,  and  violins.  His  habits  were 
extremely  simple,  though  he  was  fond  of  being  among 
beautiful  things  and  greatly  enjoyed  a  luxurious 
environment.  Undoubtedly  had  Remenyi  devoted 
himself  more  closely  to  study,  grounded  himself 
more  securely  in  the  classics,  and  kept  his  moods  in 
closer  subjection,  he  might  have  been  a  greater  artist 
than  he  was;  but  it  was  not  possible  for  a  man  of  his 
temperament  to  submit  to  rules  or  routine.  He  was 
"  a  comet  "  in  the  musical  sky,  as  Sir  George  Grove 


28  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

described  him.  He  was  uninfluenced  by  precedent, 
careless  of  traditions,  the  product  of  no  school,  and 
yet  "  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude." 

George  P.  Upton. 


The  following  data  concerning  Remenyi's  life  in 
Hungary  were  supplied  by  the  Royal  Hungarian 
Academy  of  Music,  and  forwarded  to  Miss  Kelley 
by  Hon.  Frank  Dyer-Chester,  United  States  Con- 
sul at  Budapest,  in  1903: 

His  childhood  years  were  spent  in  the  city  of  Miskolcz,  north- 
east of  Budapest.  His  brother  Anthony  was  an  attorney,  and  his 
cousin,  Edward  R.,  jr.,  was  a  professor  in  the  Upper  Gymnasium, 
both  of  Budapest. 

His  first  appearance  in  Pesth  was  at  the  end  of  the  forties. 

He  took  part  in  the  War  for  Independence  (1848-49)  as  Gor- 
gey's  camp  vioKnist. 

He  was  associated  with  the  Hungarian  exiles  in  London  in  the 
fifties,  chiefly  with  Imre  Szekely,  the  pianist. 

He  settled  down  in  Pesth  in  i860  and  gave  concerts  both  there 
and  in  the  country. 

In  the  National  Theatre  in  Budapest,  contrary  to  the  orders 
of  the  police,  he  played  the  "  Racokzy  March, "  and  in  the  same 
building  he  eulogized  Cornelia  BoUosy  in  1863,  in  a  stage-speech. 

The  fund  for  the  statues  of  Petofi  and  Dugonies  was  created 
with  the  help  of  his  concerts. 

At  Budapest,  in  connection  with  Liszt  and  Joachim,  he  gave 
concerts;  and  first  fell  out  and  afterwards  made  up  with  Mosonyi, 
Bartalus,  and  other  editors  of  the  "  Zeneszeti  Lapok  "  ( Musical 
Leaves ). 

He  acted  as  orchestra-director  at  the  National  Theatre  in  the 
seventies.    Differences  took  place  between  him  and  the  orchestra, 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  29 

as  well  as  with  Francis  Erkel  and  the  government's  representative, 
the  intendant,  Baron  Felix  Orczy. 

His  friendship  with  Liszt  weakened. 

He  took  part  in  the  Liszt  jubilee  at  Budapest  in  1873,  and 
acted  as  intermediary  with  Count  Andrassy  toward  the  calling  of 
Liszt  to  the  Royal  Hungarian  National  Academy  of  Music. 

He  departed  from  Budapest. 

He  returned  home  after  sixteen  years  of  absence,  in  1891,  and 
made  a  tour  through  the  country. 

His  compositions  and  Italian  letters  are  published  in  the  **  Zeneszeti 
Lapok." 

He  married  the  daughter  of  Anthony  Faj,  the  noted  pianist  and 
composer,  and  on  the  occasion  of  his  wedding  Liszt  composed  a 
special  march. 

His  accompanist  was  now  Alexander  Plotanyi,  the  accomplished 
pianist. 


II 

MASTER  AND  MAN 

IN  memory  of  the  master  who  has  laid  his  magical 
bow  for  ever  aside,  but  whose  music  is  not  dead, 
I  may  perhaps  explain  that  during  the  last  few  years 
of  his  life  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  be  acquainted 
intimately  with  Remenyi,  not  only  as  the  wonderful 
violinist,  the  companion  of  the  greatest  musicians 
and  writers  and  artists  of  his  period,  but  as  a  personal 
friend,  and  that  I  thus  became  familiar  with  the 
traits  of  this  strongly  marked  character,  which  was 
as  unique  as  it  was  gifted. 

His  artistic  execution  and  his  profound  knowledge 
of  the  subtlest  secrets  of  his  Stradivarius  were,  as  his 
wife  expressed  it,  perhaps  "  the  smallest  part  of  Re- 
menyi," for  his  mind  w£ts  one  of  the  quickest  and 
most  brilliant  I  have  ever  known.  While  he  may 
not  have  had  the  peculiar  mental  ability  which  fits  a 
man  to  take  a  successful  part  in  the  strenuous  business 
life  of  this  twentieth  century,  his  thought  had  re- 
markable keenness  and  rapidity.  His  powers  of 
observation  were  extraordinary,  and  his  memory  was 
retentive  of  the  minutest  details.  His  stores  of  wit 
and  anecdote  were  unlimited,  and  his  knowledge  of 

30 


MASTER  AND  MAN  31 

history  and  painting  was  so  extensive  that  his  own  pri- 
vate collection  of  art  works  was  that  of  a  connoisseur. 
His  familiarity  with  the  literature  of  the  book  world 
equalled  his  familiarity  with  what  he  termed  "  the 
literature  of  the  violin,"  for  which  he  did  so  much 
and  which  it  was  ever  his  aim  to  elevate  and  increase. 
With  all  this  was  blended  the  strange  musical  tem- 
perament of  the  virtuoso,  ranging  the  whole  gamut 
from  exalted  enthusiasm  and  altruism  to  pathetic 
sadness,  combined  with  the  simplicity  of  a  child. 
This  human  power,  which  carries  with  it  that  intangi- 
ble promise  and  conviction  of  what  the  Italians  call 
simpatica  was  Remenyi's.  He  held  the  key  to  this 
mystery,  and  it  was  not  alone  his  bow  that  stirred  the 
minds  and  hearts  of  those  who  felt  his  magnetism. 
His  art  was  a  form  of  prayer,  and  often  he  would  play, 
as  in  a  meditation  religieuse,  both  touchingly  and  up- 
liftingly,  music  that  appealed  to  the  listener's  soul. 

Though  a  patriot,  he  was  also  a  cosmopolite.  He 
observed  and  absorbed  everything  beautiful.  His 
vigor  was  stimulating  to  those  who,  like  "  ships  that 
pass  in  the  night,"  even  casually  met  him,  and  when 
he  had  gone  there  seemed  an  emptiness,  where  his 
vitalizing  personality  had  been.  Once,  when  Remen- 
yi  had  been  charming  us  by  his  conversation  and  im- 
promptu music,  he  brought  forth  a  rare  Hungarian 
root,  orveny  gyokir,  and,  asking  for  some  glowing 
embers,  placed  the  spicy  root  among  them,  filling 
the  rooms  with  faint  wreaths  of  bluish  smoke,  and 


32  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

diffusing  an  intoxicating,  delicate  fragrance,  more 
subtle  than  incense,  which,  combined  with  the  sob- 
bing music  of  his  violin,  fairly  enthralled  the  senses. 
Remenyi  was  gone,  but  the  room  seemed  still  to  hold 
in  its  very  emptiness  something  of  the  magical, 
weird  scherzo,  and  of  the  unique  personality  he  had 
lived  into  it,  and  the  scent  of  his  Hungarian  root  lin- 
gered, as  the  shadow  of  his  music. 

"  All  must  be  in  harmony  in  this  Grecian  house," 
he  had  said.  "  Where  architecture  is  represented 
in  these  beautiful  pillars  as  well  as  in  art  and  litera- 
ture, you  must  also  have  an  aesthetic  incense  —  an 
atmosphere.  I  will  give  you  the  root."  Then,  to 
hold  this  root,  he  gave  me  a  low  bronze  tripod  vase 
presented  to  him  at  the  Chinese  court,  the  imperial 
stamp  of  the  Ming  dynasty  upon  it,  with  the  lost 
glaze  of  that  apogee  of  Oriental  art. 

Such  was  Remenyi  as  I  knew  him  in  my  home. 
Such  also  was  he  in  his  own  house;  while  his  mag- 
netism charmed  every  member,  he  found  time  also 
to  look  after  their  individual  interests  and  tastes.  His 
hand  was  ever  outstretched  to  promote  the  projects 
or  hopes  of  "  the  least  of  these."  Nor  was  his  benevo- 
lence confined  to  his  inner  circle.  In  many  remote 
towns  and  villages,  his  musical  genius  and  the  power 
of  his  personality  left  their  impress,  as  he  brought 
light,  advice,  and  help  to  the  struggling.  He  had 
always  time  to  listen.  His  interest  in  humanity  was 
so  vividly  real  that  the  voung  found  ever  a  friend 


MASTER  AND  MAN  33 

in  him.  His  manner  toward  them  was  so  imostenta- 
tious  and  genuine  that  they  soon  found  all  embarrass- 
ment melting  away  beneath  the  sunlight  of  his  humor 
and  verve;  and  at  last,  absorbed  by  his  interesting 
conversation,  their  lips  too  became  unsealed.  Yet 
this  was  the  great  player,  whose  travels  had  taken 
him  many  times  to  the  remotest  comers  of  the  globe, 
the  man  whose  friends  were  legion,  from  Liszt  and 
Victor  Hugo  (with  whom  Remenyi  lived  for  years 
in  Paris)  and  from  the  courts  of  Europe  and  the 
Orient,  down  to  the  humblest  villagers.  Such  was 
the  man  whose  love  of  his  native  Hungary  was  so 
exalted  and  so  influential  that  the  Austrian  govern- 
ment was  at  one  time  on  the  point  of  setting  a  price 
upon  his  head. 

Remenyi's  optimism  was  tremendous,  his  love  of 
men  intense,  his  admiration  for  women  profound. 
Truly  he  gave  lavishly  of  his  stores,  not  only  by  his 
rarely  brilliant  conversational  powers,  but  by  his 
extensive  correspondence.  His  letters,  written  as 
the  mood  seized  him,  were  varied  in  the  extreme; 
some  were  witty,  quaint,  full  of  legends,  notes  on  his 
travels  and  concerts,  and  were  spontaneously  origi- 
nal. But  master-brains  are  the  most  effervescent  and 
sparkling  in  play-time !  In  contrast  with  these  were 
others,  serious  or  poetic,  in  which  he  spoke  of  setting 
down  stray  ideas  "  as  they  came  to  him."  He  bade 
me  keep  them,  as  he  intended  using  them  as  the 
"  skeleton,''  so  he  called  it,  of  the  book  it  was  in  his 


34  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

mind  "  some  day ''  to  write,  on  Music,  Art,  Nature, 
etc.,  as  he  viewed  them.  Alas,  that  *'  some  day '' 
never  came;  the  book  never  was  written;  for  Re- 
menyi  dropped  dead  in  San  Francisco,  at  the  time  of 
the  Spanish  War,  while  he  was  playing  an  encore  to  the 
song  of  our  country  for  an  immense  and  enthusiastic 
audience;  and  so  the  "skeleton ''  of  the  work  which 
was  to  have  been  remained  in  my  library,  where,  in 
rearranging  the  letters  and  looking  at  his  photo- 
graph, his  intention  was  recalled  to  my  mind.  No 
collection  of  fragments  can  approach  what  his  own 
completed  work  would  have  been;  yet,  knowing  his 
intention,  I  thought  that,  rather  than  lock  these  let- 
ters and  papers  away  from  the  thousands  who  have 
been  swayed  by  his  music  and  personality,  I  would 
attempt  to  weave  the  mosaic  bits  together.  The  re- 
sult, such  as  it  is,  I  can  only  bring  as  a  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  my  friend. 

Delightful  as  Remenyi  was  in  his  graciousness 
when  upon  the  concert-stage,  it  was  even  more 
charming  to  hear  him  when,  taking  out  his  rare  vio- 
lin, he  would  awaken  the  echoes  in  an  all  but  empty 
room.  Sometimes  he  would  happen  in  informally 
and,  after  visiting  a  little  while,  would  play  by  the 
hour — his  Stradivarius  seeming  transformed  into 
a  complete  orchestra,  as  it  pealed  out  in  the  stillness 
of  the  place,  thrilling  one  with  vivid  tone-pictures 
of  his  land  and  rhapsodies  of  his  own  com- 
position, their  motifs  sometimes  allegro,  conveying 


MASTER  AND  MAN  35 

the  impression  at  times  of  a  bit  of  Grieg,  with  close 
harmony  and  light  in  all,  marvellous  in  execution, 
but  with  a  certain  original  spirit  and  fine  shading. 
How  well  I  remember  him  at  such  times,  as  he 
would  lean  against  the  arm  of  a  chair,  the  dim  light 
bringing  out  all  the  strength  of  his  rugged  features, 
so  that  each  phrase  of  the  musical  conception  he  was 
rendering  seemed  reflected  in  his  fast-changing  ex- 
pressions !  His  eyes  would  look  into  space,  although 
his  instrument  seemed  verily  alive  beneath  the  light- 
ning play  of  his  fingers.  Again  his  foot  marked 
the  measure,  as  the  concourse  of  tone  mounted 
from  depths  of  pathetic  harmony  or  simple  aria,  in 
ever-varying  crescendos,  up  toward  the  climax  of 
the  glorious  finale,  his  weird  fire-tone  thrilling  be- 
neath his  brilliant  technique  until,  with  a  circular 
sweep  of  his  bow,  he  would  end  with  unequalled 
brilliancy.  The  air  seemed  fairly  quivering  as  he 
ceased,  as  if  his  Stradivarius,  a  living  thing,  were 
pulsing  under  its  master's  touch.  He  often  rose  and, 
with  dreamy  eyes,  would  wander  from  room  to  room, 
returning  slowly.  When  the  last  tones  had  died 
away  he  would  give  a  short  sigh;  then,  covering  his 
instrument  in  its  silken  wrappings  with  tender  touch, 
he  would  place  it  with  extreme  precision  and  care 
upon  the  palm  leaves  in  its  soft-lined  case.  His 
watchfulness  over  his  beloved  Stradivarius  was  strik- 
ing. He  usually  had  with  him  two  violins,  deeply 
toned  with  age,  the  lost  lustre  of  Cremona.    But  his 


36  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

care  of  one  of  these  was  especially  jealous;  he  sel- 
dom allowed  it  to  be  handled  by  others,  and  gener- 
ally carried  it,  during  his  travels,  with  his  own  hand. 
Its  secrets  he  held  in  his  heart,  and  at  the  soft  but 
firm  touch  of  his  powerful  fingers  its  highest  notes 
would  unfold  and  grow  bell-like  in  clearness,  yet 
velvety  with  ineffable  sweetness  that  could  fade 
away  into  scarcely  more  than  the  faint  breath  of  a 
zephyr. 

When  playing,  as  on  all  other  occasions,  Remenyi 
was  absolutely  without  self-consciousness.  In  pub- 
lic he  was  generous  with  his  encores  and  gracious  in 
his  appreciation  and  acknowledgments.  He  was  not 
a  tall  man,  but  he  maintained  a  certain  dignity  all  his 
own.  His  highly  strung  temperament,  however, 
showed  itself  in  the  quickness  of  his  movements  and 
in  the  rapid  flash  of  that  kindly  smile  which  often 
curiously  lit  up  his  face.  At  times  I  have  seen  him 
hold  thousands  spellbound.  The  same  marvellous 
power  was  realized  in  those  early  days  when  Remenyi 
stirred  the  patriots  of  Hungary,  his  music  his  medium 
and  his  burning  convictions  his  inspiration.  In  mid- 
dle life  his  genius  brought  him  close  to  many  of  the 
most  celebrated  figures  of  his  period;  in  later  years 
it  held  his  place  warm  in  the  hearts  of  the  people, 
albeit  at  times  his  own  head  was  bowed  by  the  weight 
of  responsibilities  and  cares.  But  these  never  wholly 
obscured  the  snushine  of  his  nature. 

Remenyi's  wit  and  sense  of  humor  never  failed 


MASTER  AND  MAN  37 

him.  He  was  easily  amused  and  pleased,  and  his 
appreciation  was  freely  expressed.  While  impatient 
of  poseurs  and  bores,  he  was  always  keen  to  divine 
and  to  point  out  the  good  in  others  and  ever  ready 
with  encouragement.  He  loved  a  good  story,  and  he 
often  made  himself  the  butt  of  his  own,  by  ridiculing 
his  ovm  peculiarities.  At  the  same  time  he  had  a 
craze  for  beauty  in  whatever  form  he  found  it.  He 
reverenced  Nature,  and  had  long  been  a  student  of 
her  secrets.  He  admired  and  gloried  in  whatever 
was  fine  in  men  and  women,  and  was  singularly  ten- 
der with  children.  His  cult  of  the  beautiful  was 
surpassed  only  by  his  pride  and  enthusiasm  for  art  in 
its  broadest  sense.  His  motto  might  well  have  been: 
"Outward,  not  inward;  forward,  not  backward"; 
yet  often  his  mood,  ever  changing,  was  one  of  medita- 
tion and  introspection. 

Remenyi  was  his  own  most  rigid  taskmaster.  He 
abhorred  the  phlegmatic  and  was  impatient  of  lazi- 
ness. Many  a  time  in  afternoon  or  evening,  he  would 
exultingly  count  the  length  of  the  hours  of  his  soli- 
tary practising,  striking  his  arm  with  pride,  pointing 
to  its  muscle  and  saying,  "  It  is  of  iron,  and  my  fin- 
gers— !"  Then,  descending  from  his  work,  he 
would  take  up  the  interests  and  conversation  of  his 
family  or  friends,  bandying  jokes,  telling  stories,  and 
making  himself  the  life  of  the  party. 

His  attitude  toward  his  wife  was  one  of  striking 
tenderness,  and  often  demonstrative  (for  during  her 


38  EDOUARD   REMENYI 

later  life  she  was  an  invalid),  and  his  pride  in  her 
unusual  attainments  was  as  apparent  as  was  his  con- 
cern in  his  children's  affairs.  Madame  Remenyi  was 
a  lady  of  noble  family,  whose  abilities  were  beyond 
the  ordinary,  and  in  her  nature  there  was  a  marked 
serenity,  absorbed  though  she  was  in  her  husband, 
whose  counsellor  and  most  appreciative  friend  she 
ever  wag.  In  talking  with  Madame  Remenyi  no  one 
could  well  mistake  the  nobility  of  her  thought.  "  She 
has  the  patience  of  a  saint,"  Remenyi  would  often 
say,  hovering  near  her  and  distressed  when  he  found 
her  not  so  well  as  usual.  His  professional  tours  of 
necessity  took  him  much  away  from  her,  but  he  wrote 
so  easily  and  so  often  that  she  could  follow  him  in 
this  way,  and  his  returns  home  were  joyous  events. 
No  matter  what  the  circumstances  were,  Remenyi 
always  burst  in,  embracing  each  member  of  his 
family  in  his  exuberant  overflow  of  spirits,  and  im- 
parting his  spontaneous  bonhomie  and  sunshine  to 
one  and  all.  His  interest  in  his  two  children  was 
deep,  especially  in  the  vocal  ability  of  his  daughter 
Adrienne  and  the  studies  pursued  by  his  son  Tibor. 
While  he  enjoyed  the  society  of  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances, Remenyi  was  also  fond  of  his  home,  and  in  it 
were  many  rare  relics  of  his  long  travels,  such  as 
souvenirs,  vases,  etc.,  given  him  at  the  Chinese  court, 
and  elsewhere.  Wherever  Remenyi  went  he  was  the 
central  figure;  whether  amid  the  Bohemianism  of  a 
Hungarian  restaurant,  where  he  would  take  out  his 


EDOUARD  REMENYI 
(  From  a  portrait  taken  in  1882  ) 


MASTER  AND  MAN  39 

violin  and  play  his  native  airs,  or  amid  the  pomp  and 
festivity  of  a  state  dinner  at  the  palace.  He  was  at 
his  ease,  whatever  his  surroundings,  at  home  or 
abroad. 

With  such  remarkable  powers  of  observation  and 
memory  his  wide  travels  had  greatly  enhanced  his 
love  of  people,  making  of  him  a  fascinating  conver- 
sationalist, one  whose  brain  never  seemed  to  weary  or 
whose  fund  of  knowledge  to  be  diminished ;  yet  con- 
centration was  one  of  his  chief  endowments.  He 
could  become  oblivious  of  those  about  him  while 
writing  a  letter,  or  lose  himself  in  his  music. 

GV^NDOLYN  DUNLEVY  KeLLEY. 


m 

LIFE  SKETCH  OF  REMENYI 

I  FIRST  saw  my  husband  in  1848.  I  was  then 
but  a  little  girl  twelve  years  of  age.  He  came  into 
my  father's  house  at  Miskolcz  with  a  big  slouch  hat 
on  his  head  and  followed  by  a  throng  of  young  men. 
My  sister  and  I  were  not  allowed  then  to  see  or 
speak  to  him,  being  little  girls,  but  I  managed  to 
get  glimpses  of  him.  He  stayed  forty-five  days  at 
the  house.  I  did  not  see  him  again  until  i860,  when 
he  came  back  from  his  exile  after  the  amnesty.  He 
then  made  a  triumphal  tour  of  Hungary.  To  my 
knowledge  he  gave  at  that  time  one  hundred  thou- 
sand florins  (forty  thousand  dollars)  of  his  earnings 
toward  defraying  some  of  the  expenses  of  the  statue 
of  Petofi  in  Budapest  and  donations  to  the  Conserva- 
tory of  Music. 

After  that  I  saw  him  from  time  to  time  until 
December,  1871,  when  I  became  engaged  to  him, 
and  we  were  married  February  10,  1872. 

Only  those  who  knew  Remenyi  well  understood 
his  true  character,  so  beautiful,  so  poetic,  so  naive. 
I  consider  that  the  violm  was  but  the  medium  of 
expression  for  his   overflowing  artistic  sensations, 

40 


LIFE  SKETCH   OF  REMENYI  41 

albeit  he  was  such  a  master  of  technique.  My  hus- 
band was  in  no  way  conceited,  nor  jealous.  He 
was  childlike  at  heart,  and  it  was  because  of  this  that 
he  was  so  great.  I  have  never  known  a  nature  imbued 
to  such  a  degree  with  the  beautiful  in  all  its  mani- 
festations. His  was  one  of  those  very  rare  natures 
wherein  the  finer  qualities  completely  overshadow 
small  weaknesses.  What  a  profoundly  artistic  na- 
ture was  Remenyi's!  What  power  he  had  to  per- 
ceive the  beautiful  in  all  its  forms !  It  seemed  given 
to  him  to  see  much  more  of  the  beautiful  than  to  us 
ordinary  mortals.  These  attributes  were  not  first 
developed  in  his  years  of  maturity.  He  exhibited 
them  in  a  very  high  degree  when  a  child  of  seven 
years.  His  parents  owned  a  bust  of  Napoleon,  the 
plaster  of  which,  gaudy  with  gilding,  shocked  the 
eyes  of  the  little  boy,  who  in  his  dreams  seems  to 
have  acquired  by  intuition  that  quick  discernment 
of  beauty  possessed  by  the  Greeks.  In  brief,  he 
could  not  endure  the  sight  of  this  abortion.  So, 
being  too  little  to  reach  it,  he  cHmbed  upon  a  ladder 
and,  armed  with  a  long  stick,  smashed  the  unlucky 
bust  to  pieces.  At  Eger,  the  seat  of  an  archbishop, 
where  he  spent  the  years  of  his  early  youth,  there  is 
a  pompous  cathedral,  built  at  the  beginning  of  the 
last  century,  which  is  frightful  in  style  and  reminds 
one  of  those  frosted  cakes  seen  now  and  then  in  the 
show-window  of  some  patissier  in  one  of  the  streets 
of  old  Paris.     Opposite,  there  stands  a  magnificent 


42  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

lyceum,  a  building  of  the  time  of  Marie  Th^rese, 
which,  however,  no  one  ever  seemed  to  notice,  be- 
cause of  its  old  gray  masonry  and  its  air  avoue.  Here 
the  little  Remenyi  used  to  stand  by  the  hour,  con- 
templating in  ecstasy  this  structure  which  to  him 
seemed  very,  very  beautiful. 

The  aesthetic  sense  was,  very  happily  for  him, 
extraordinarily  developed  by  the  great  man  whom 
he  had  the  extreme  luck  to  meet  as  soon  as  he  had 
left  the  Conservatory.  Acquaintance  with  this  man's 
noble  patriotic  aspirations,  philanthropic  spirit,  and 
literary  genius  left  an  ineffaceable  imprint  upon  the 
soul  of  the  young  musician,  causing  him  to  cherish 
things  of  intangible  beauty.  Later,  when  he  came 
to  know  the  great  poets  and  writers  and  artists 
intimately  this  adoration  of  the  beautiful  was  intensi- 
fied, until  at  last  it  became  the  dominant  passion  of 
his  life.  What  a  joy  it  was  for  him  to  read  wonder- 
ful pages,  and  to  see  the  creations  which  the  great 
painters  and  sculptors  have  given  us !  What  ecstasy 
to  hear  fine  music,  and  what  satisfaction  to  meet 
those  who  by  their  execution  were  worthy  to  be  called 
artists  and  musicians! 

Some  have  said  that  Remenyi  was  jealous  at  times 
and  unwilling  to  recognize  the  worth  of  his  brother 
musicians.  Mon  Dieu,  what  an  error!  No  one  was 
ever  happier  than  he  when  occasionally  good  fortune 
offered  him  the  enjoyment  (regal)  of  hearing  a  per- 
fect musician  who  at  the  same  time  had  command 


LIFE   SKETCH  OF  REMENYI  43 

of  technique.  "  Transcendant  technique,"  he  called 
it  when  the  individuaHty  of  the  performer  was  visible 
but  the  difficulties  had  become  invisible,  when  the 
severest  passages  were  performed  with  as  much  ease 
as  if  to  render  them  were  the  most  natural  thing  in 
the  world.  He  was  exacting,  and  one  might  well  be 
so  who  had  made  so  much  music  with  Liszt,  Biilow, 
and  others.  He  required  much,  but  when  he  heard 
something  fine  or  beautiful,  then  his  enthusiasm  had 
no  limits.  I  recall  his  coming  home  one  evening  in 
ecstasy  after  hearing  an  unknown  individual  play  the 
violin  admirably,  and  he  could  not  be  reconciled  to 
the  knowledge  that  that  person  was  only  a  member  of 
a  small  orchestra.  Remenyi  never  had  patience  with 
a  reputation  manufactured  by  advertisement,  but 
all  that  was  good  and  characteristic  delighted  him. 
After  having  heard  C^sar  Thompson  he  wept  for  joy 
at  having  heard  the  violin  played  with  such  mastery. 
As  he  was  more  than  sixty  years  old  at  that  time,  the 
structure  of  his  hands  would  not  allow  him  to  work 
out  this  line  of  his  technique  to  correspond  with  his 
other  abilities.  However,  after  two  years  of  study 
he  surprised  us  by  playing  to  us  a  composition, 
"Chant  de  TOrage"  (Song  of  the  Storm),  which 
was  embellished  throughout  with  pyrotechnics.  In 
June,  1890,  when  Remenyi  was  in  London,  after 
twelve  years  passed  far  from  Europe,  he  went  to  a 
concert  given  by  Sarasate.  He  was  in  such  trans- 
ports of  pleasure  over  his   beautiful   and    silvery 


44  EDOUARD   REMENYI 

playing,  that  he  hurried  to  a  florist  and  bought  a  bas- 
ket of  the  most  lovely  flowers,  which  he  sent  immedi- 
ately to  the  Spanish  maestro.  A  Parisian  artist,  M.  Von 
Waffelghem,  told  me  that  Sarasate  was  extremely 
touched  by  this  offering  on  the  part  of  a  confrere,  and 
candidly  acknowledged  that  he  never  had  had  a 
similar  tribute  rendered  him.  And  so  it  was  that 
everything  beautiful,  great,  or  lofty,  whether  it  were 
poetry,  prose,  painting,  sculpture,  science,  patriotism, 
humanity,  or  philanthropy,  woke  a  vibrating  echo  in 
his  soul,  which  seemed  to  have  been  created  for  noble 
and  beautiful  sensations.  How  great,  too,  was  his 
patriotism!  Despite  his  long  absence  from  his 
native  land,  he  always  swore  by  it  with  the  same 
love,  and  ever  expressed  the  most  ardent  wishes  for 
its  prosperity.  America,  however,  had  become  nearly 
as  dear  to  him,  so  great  was  his  admiration  for  its 
marvellous  growth  in  the  sciences  and  for  its  natural 
resources. 

My  husband  took  up  the  violin  at  the  age  of  seven 
years,  at  Eger.  At  nine.  Archbishop  Pyrker,  a  well- 
known  writer  of  poems  and  dramas  on  religious  sub- 
jects, sent  him  to  the  Conservatory  at  Vienna.  The 
professor  at  Eger  said  that  he  would  never  learn  to 
play  the  violin.  Happily,  however,  he  completely 
succeeded,  for  within  three  months  he  won  the  first 
prize  at  the  Conservatory.  His  teacher  was  the 
famous  Bohm,  the  instructor  of  Joachim,  Laube,  and 
others.    After  leaving  the  Conservatory  he  went  to 


LIFE  SKETCH  OF  REMENYI  45 

Paris,  but  had  no  teacher.  He  attended  all  the  con- 
certs, visited  the  museums,  read  fine  literature,  and, 
in  short,  secured  a  thorough  artistic  education. 

Remenyi  abandoned  all  this,  however,  during  1848, 
and  enrolled  himself  as  honved.  General  Klapka 
has  told  me  how  Remenyi's  mother  confided  him  to 
his  charge,  and  of  the  bravery  of  my  husband.  Some- 
time after  the  surrender  at  Vil^gos  he  went  into  Ger- 
many, and  it  was  there  that  he  became  acquainted 
with  Liszt,  who  appreciated  him  highly  and  took 
him  into  his  home,  where  he.  remained  eighteen 
months.  It  was  there  that  my  husband  learned  the 
most,  as  it  was  an  atmosphere  where  all  that  was 
great  and  beautiful  was  admired. 

Remenyi  knew  all  the  famous  men  of  his  time. 
In  Hungary  all  our  prominent  statesmen  loved  him 
greatly.  Our  famous  Lzechenip  was  one  of  his  pa- 
trons. In  France  also  he  knew  the  great  authors  of 
his  time,  being  especially  intimate  with  Theophile 
Gautier,  Les  Goncourts,  Flaubert,  George  Sand, 
and  Victor  Hugo,  with  whom  he  stayed  from  six  to 
nine  months.  I  wish  to  mention  an  incident  which 
illustrates  the  correct  musical  sense  of  Victor  Hugo, 
and  shows  that  he  discriminated  well  in  what  he 
heard  without  being  an  avowed  musician.  He  used  to 
say  to  my  husband  that  he  could  not  sympathize  in 
the  least  with  Mendelssohn's  music;  that  he  did  not 
like  it  at  all,  but  that  he  adored  Schumann,  Schubert, 
and  Chopin.    My  husband,  however,  believed  that 


46  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

this  was  mere  talk  and  that  the  master  really  knew 
nothing  about  it.  So  to  put  it  to  the  test,  he  said  to 
him:  "  See  here,  master,  I  am  going  to  play  you 
something  from  Schumann  which  you  have  never 
heard,"  and  he  played  him  an  almost  unknown 
selection  from  Mendelssohn.  Victor  Hugo  listened 
to  it,  then  rubbing  his  Olympian  head,  said:  "  Voila 
que  Schumann  baissel  This  composition  is  by  no 
means  up  to  the  level  of  the  other  things  of  his  with 
which  I  am  acquainted."  He  evidently  felt,  even  if 
he  could  not  understand  and  analyze,  that  this  music 
was  not  in  Schumann's  vein. 

In  thinking  of  the  literary  style  of  my  husband  I 
never  could  quite  account  for  his  prolific  use  of  super- 
latives, but  now  the  explanation  has  come  to  me. 
Where  emotions  were  concerned  he  was  like  a 
sixteen-year-old  boy,  who  gives  vent  to  all  his 
impressions  without  repressing  them.  At  sixty-eight 
my  husband  was  equally  young  and  equally  moved  by 
the  sacred  fire  of  enthusiasm.    Poor  man! 

Exiled  and  unable  to  enter  Hungary,  Remenyi 
went  to  London  and  there,  without  being  known,  in 
a  competition  of  two  hundred  and  eighty  players,  he 
obtained  the  position  of  first  violinist  to  the  Queen. 
In  i860  he  received  amnesty,  and  in  January  he  re- 
turned to  Hungary.  He  was  welcomed  back  with 
such  an  ovation  as  is  rarely  seen.  He  made  many 
journeys  through  Germany,  Holland,  and  Russia 
prior  to  our  marriage,  and  afterwards  was  in  Egypt, 


LIFE  SKETCH   OF   REMENYI  47 

Germany,  Russia,  France,  and  England,  and  finally 
undertook  his  trip  around  the  world. 

The  places  which  he  best  loved,  climatically  and 
for  their  beauty,  were  Java,  California,  and  Naples. 
I  am,  therefore,  so  glad  that  during  his  last  days  he 
should  have  been  among  his  dearly  loved  palms. 

Madame  Remenyi.* 

*  Madame  RemenyVs  maiden  name  was  Gisella  de  Fay  de  Faj.  Her 
father,  Anton  de  Fay  de  Faj,  was  a  musician  of  some  talent,  of  whom 
Liszt  once  said,  "  //  old  M.  de  Faj  would  only  learn  the  rules  of  com- 
position, Wagner  and  I  would  as  well  keep  perfectly  silent." 


IV 

REMINISCENCES   OF  REMENYI 

FOR  many  years  Remenyi  was  my  guest  when  he 
visited  San  Francisco.  It  is  needless  for  me 
to  say  that  I  was  always  rewarded  by  the  associa- 
tion. He  was  a  genial,  whole-souled  gentleman. 
Having  travelled  all  over  the  world,  he  was  full  of 
good  stories,  and  with  his  rare  fund  of  humor,  aside 
from  the  individuality  which  stamped  his  narratives, 
he  always  held  sway  when  imparting  his  experiences. 
He  looked  on  the  bright  side  of  things,  and  usually 
saw  them  from  a  humorous  standpoint.  He  was  as 
youthful  as  a  boy.  He  loved  a  joke  as  well  as  a  pun, 
in  fact,  punning  was  quite  a  habit  with  him.  He 
spoke  many  languages  but  could  pun  only  in  Eng- 
lish, which  he  deplored  as  a  great  loss  to  his  foreign 
friends.  He  was  happy  in  relating  a  pun  he  had 
indulged  in  regarding  his  friend,  the  late  Colonel 
Robert  G.  IngersoU. 

"  When  you  depart  from  this  earth,  Colonel," 
said  Remenyi,  "  you  will  want  to  be  the  same  in  the 
other  world  that  you  are  here." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  IngersoU.  "  Why  do 
you  think  so  ? ' ' 

48 


REMINISCENCES  OF  REMENYI  49 

"  Because  here  you  are  a  nice  man,  and  when  you 
strike  a  warmer  region  you  will  still  want  to  be  an 
ice  man." 

Remenyi  was  very  fond  of  President  McKinley, 
with  whom  he  was  on  social  terms,  and  whom  he 
visited  at  the  White  House  when  in  Washington. 
Upon  one  such  occasion  the  President  remarked 
that  they  were  in  the  Cabinet  Room.  Remenp 
looked  around  and  said : 

"  You  know,  Mr.  President,  your  Cabinet  is  incom- 
plete and  will  always  remain  so  until  you  add  a  fid- 
dler to  your  body." 

"  Well,"  said  the  President,  smilingly,  "  why  this 
addition  ?  " 

"  Because,  first,  I  could  always  produce  harmony 
when  you  became  inharmonious.  If  you  found  the 
country  financially  depressed,  I  could  make  notes  to 
relieve  you.  I  could  always  come  to  the  scratch. 
In  fact,  I  could  work  the  time  to  suit,  and  pull  the 
strings  any  way  it  became  necessary." 

The  President  laughed,  slapped  Remenyi  on  the 
back,  and  said:  "  You  will  be  quite  an  acquisition; 
when  Congress  meets  again,  we  will  have  the  addition 
authorized,  and  you  will  be  recommended  for  the 
place." 

Remenyi  often  laughed  at  some  of  his  critics  who 
accused  him  of  indulging  in  tricks  on  the  violin.  He 
said:  "  Quite  the  reverse  is  the  fact;  the  violin  does 
tricks  on  me.    But  I  presume  my  critics  know  little 


50  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

of  the  violin  and  much  of  tricks;  and  many  a  poor 
scribe  is  sent  to  act  as  critic  about  art  and  music,  con- 
cerning which  he  has  only  a  surface  knowledge." 

Remenyi  in  his  time  had  been  a  collector  of  rare 
oil-paintings;  he  was  a  judge  of  good  work,  and  his 
opinion  on  a  painting  was  valuable.  Upon  one  oc- 
casion I  accompanied  him  to  see  some  pictures  done 
by  an  artist  who,  by  reason  of  his  intemperance,  had 
lost  his  position  in  the  art  world.  He  had  about  a 
dozen,  which  he  placed  with  an  art-dealer,  and, 
wanting  money  at  once,  left  word  with  him  to  sell 
them  at  any  price.  They  were  landscapes  and 
scenes  in  California,  and  the  moment  Remenyi 
saw  them  he  proclaimed  them  the  work  of  a  good 
artist.  He  requested  me  to  inquire  the  price.  I  was 
told  we  could  have  our  choice  at  fifteen  dollars  each. 
Remenyi  said  that  he  must  have  made  a  mistake,  and 
directed  me  to  inquire  again.  The  price  was  con- 
firmed. He  said:  "We  take  them  all."  The 
dealer  requested  to  know  where  he  should  send 
them.  Remenyi  was  very  nervous  and  answered 
that  he  need  not  send  them;  that  he  would  take  them 
away  himself.  He  turned  to  me  and  said:  "  I  am 
going  to  impose  a  hardship  on  you,  but  this  is  a  test 
of  your  affection  for  me.  We  must  carry  these  pic- 
tures away  ourselves."  I  said,  "Why?"  He  an- 
s\^ered:  "  I  think  in  the  first  place  the  man  will 
change  his  mind  on  account  of  the  price;  and,  second, 
I  could  not  in  justice  to  my  feelings  take  a  chance  and 


REMINISCENCES  OF   REMENYI  51 

leave  them  behind  me."  So  we  started  through  the 
streets  with  them,  he  almost  on  a  run.  Many  per- 
sons recognized  us  and  turned  and  looked  after  us. 

The  distance  to  the  hotel,  of  course,  was  not  far, 
but  when  we  arrived  at  our  apartments  he  placed  the 
paintings  about  the  room  and  danced  around  in 
admiration  over  the  bargain  he  had  made.  While 
in  the  midst  of  his  glee,  a  knock  on  the  door  caused 
him  to  lose  color;  he  was  pale  as  a  ghost.  He  put 
his  finger  on  his  mouth  is  if  to  direct  silence.  When 
the  knock  became  stronger  he  remarked :  "  I  knew 
it;  they  have  discovered  they  have  made  a  mistake 
and  come  for  them;  but  we  have  paid  for  them  and 
have  the  receipt.  A  bargain  is  a  bargain."  Then 
again  the  knock  was  repeated.  He  nervously  opened 
the  door,  and  in  front  of  him  stood  a  bell-boy  with 
a  card  from  his  piano  accompanist.  Remenyi  was 
much  relieved,  handed  the  boy  a  tip,  and  said, 
"  Tell  him  to  come  up." 

In  speaking  of  famous  violinists  and  those  who  at- 
tempt the  mastery  of  the  violin,  Remenyi  said:  "  To 
speak  of  a  person  as  a  master  of  the  violin  is  to  assert 
that  which  has  never  yet  been  achieved.  Hun- 
dreds of  thousands  fiddle,  thousands  play  at  the  vio- 
lin, and  thousands  play  on  the  violin,  a  few  thousand 
perform  well,  and  a  few  hundred  play  very  well.  The 
great  artists  who  achieve  fame  and  are  world- 
renowned  number  less  than  fifty,  while  those  who  are 
credited  with  being  great  virtuosos,  you  can  count 


52  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

on  one  hand;  and,  as  to  its  master,  he  has  never 
been  born.  So  you  begin  with  miUions  and  come 
down  to  nothing,  leaving  the  violin  unconquered.'* 

Remenyi  was  a  genial,  whole-souled  being.  He 
was  always  kindness  itself,  but  while  he  was  ex- 
tremely sociable,  he  gave  his  intimate  confidence  to 
few.  He  remarked  one  day  laughingly:  "  I  will  tell 
you  in  strictest  confidence  that  while  my  admirers 
and  the  world  at  large  credit  me  with  being  a  great 
performer  on  the  violin,  I  am  but  a  novice.  I  realize 
this  the  more  I  practise  and  the  older  I  grow.  If  I 
do  not  practise  to-day,  to-morrow  I  know  it;  if  I  do 
not  practise  to-morrow,  any  good  artist  can  observe 
it;  and  if  I  do  not  practise  on  the  following  day,  then 
the  whole  world  knows  it,  that  is,  if  I  attempt  to  play. 
I  am  a  slave  to  my  art,  and  this  small  combination  of 
wood  and  strings  is  my  master.  But  I  am  happy  only 
when  endeavoring  to  understand  it,  and  my  joy  is 
increased  when  I  know  that  I  have  pleased  a  great 
artist." 

It  happened  that  he  and  Isaye  were  sojourning  in 
San  Francisco  at  the  same  time.  Isaye  was  very  fond 
of  Remenyi  and  very  enthusiastic  over  certain  pieces 
that  he  played ;  and  while  enjoying  a  social  afternoon 
together  in  my  rooms  at  the  Baldwin  Hotel,  Isaye 
induced  him  to  play  a  Hungarian  rhapsody  and  a 
Russian  czardas.  Remenyi  played  with  tremendous 
intensity;  he  was  on  his  mettle,  and  anxious  to  im- 
press Isaye  with  a  heroic  interpretation  of  the  piece 


REMINISCENCES   OF  REMENYI  53 

he  performed.  It  was  interesting  to  watch  the  player 
and  the  listener.  As  Remenyi  proceeded,  Isaye  be- 
came excited,  and  the  more  Remenyi  played  the  more 
Isaye  abandoned  himself  to  his  feelings.  He  played 
for  fifteen  minutes.  The  whole  air  was  charged 
with  his  fantastic  music.  Isaye  was  greatly  excited, 
and  when  the  little  old  man  laid  down  his  violin  he 
took  him  in  his  embrace  and  kissed  him  on  each 
cheek,  shouting,  "  Charmant!  Magnifique!  Bravo! 
Bravo!''  It  was  a  rare  sight — Isaye,  the  world- 
accepted  virtuoso  of  his  time,  lovingly  and  affection- 
ately embracing  his  friend  and  proclaiming  that  no 
man  alive  could  play  that  class  of  music  like  him. 
Tears  trickled  down  Remenyi's  cheek;  he  was  as 
happy  as  a  king;  he  said  criticism  from  such  a 
source  was  worth  all  his  life's  labor. 

Remenyi,  surprised  at  the  lack  of  interest  shown 
by  the  American  government  in  national  music,  said : 
"  As  Americans,  we  are  very  poor  in  sentiment. 
What  are  we  doing  to  progress  and  master  the  higher 
arts?  Nothing.  It's  all  money,  money.  We  are 
money-mad.  We  rush  into  Wall  Street  rich,  and 
then  we  rush  out  poor.  If  you  stopped  one  of  these 
genuine  Americans  and  asked  him  to  listen  to  the 
absolute  necessity  for  a  national  conservatory  of 
music,  he  would  push  you  aside  as  though  you  were 
foolish.  The  day  will  come  when  American  love  of 
art  in  all  its  forms  will  be  demonstrated,  and  our 
government  will  wake  up  from  its  Rip  Van  Winkleism 


54  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

and  promote  the  interests  of  a  music-loving  people. 
The  great  men  at  the  head  of  this  government  should 
understand  that  one  of  the  surest  ways  of  instilling 
patriotism  in  the  rising  generation  is  to  symbolize 
the  country's  history  by  and  through  the  hand  of  the 
artist  and  the  painter  and  the  sculptor,  or  by  its  music 
that  bespeaks  the  sentiment  and  the  grandeur  of 
millions  of  people,  and  their  life  in  peace  and  war. 
Why  should  we  be  compelled  to  look  upon  scenes  of 
foreign  lands  as  portrayed  by  the  foreign  artist? 
Why  not  American  scenes  by  American  artists  ?  My 
friends  say,  '  Ah,  it  is  a  fad  to  purchase  European 
art.'  Let  national  pride,  then,  overcome  the  fad. 
You  Americans  have  the  grandest  land  in  all  the 
world;  but  you  don't  do  it  or  yourselves  justice. 
Never  mind  what  is  said  about  the  great  masters  all 
residing  in  Europe.  Pay  them  something  —  for  in 
Europe  they  get  little,  and  I  am  sure  they  will  come. 
The  thing  is  to  have  the  government  establish  and 
maintain  national  conservatories  of  music  and  art. 
Have  an  authorized  conservatory  the  same  as  they 
have  in  Europe,  and  you  will  attract  Europe's  best 
masters  and  teachers.  They  would  be  happy  to 
come;  only  give  them  the  opportunity.  Once  this 
country  takes  hold,  in  the  right  way,  America  will 
become  the  greatest  musical  centre  of  the  world.  As 
things  are  now,  you  can't  blame  parents  for  sending 
their  children  abroad  for  music;  and  yet  it  grieves 


REMINISCENCES  OF  REMENYI  55 

me  to  see  this  done.  I  know  the  environment 
awaiting  the  Americans." 

Remenyi  once  attended  the  synagogue  to  hear  the 
playing  of  "  Kol-Nedra,"  on  the  eve  of  the  Day  of 
Atonement.  It  was  a  violin  solo  with  orchestral  and 
pipe-organ  accompaniment.  During  the  perform- 
ance he  turned  his  eyes  upward  and  tears  streamed 
down  his  cheeks.  I  afterwards  remarked  to  him 
that  he  seemed  affected. 

He  said :  "  Oh,  yes.  No  man  can  run  away  from 
his  blood  or  his  true  creed.  The  cruel  suffering  of 
the  Jews  is  piteously  told  in  their  music,  and  I  am 
carried  back  to  my  mother's  knees  when  I  hear  it." 

I  said:  "  You  talk  as  though  you  were  a  Jew; 
are  you  ?" 

He  answered:  "  The  man  who  would  deny  him- 
self is  a  coward.  My  practices  and  professions  have 
been  such  as  to  please  a  good  wife,  yes,  and  to  aid 
the  ambitions  of  my  youth.  I  was  once  the  Queen 
of  England's  violin  soloist.  I  have  stood  in  many 
high  places  and  before  great  men.  I  yielded  much 
to  wear  around  my  neck  a  rosary  that  gave  credence 
when  doubt  was  aroused.  I  did  this  because  I  was 
raised  in  a  land  where  I  witnessed  a  prejudice  that 
was  almost  incredible,  and  I  knew  it  would  make 
life's  battle  harder.  I  once  asked  an  old  bishop  why 
the  Jews  were  disliked,  and  the  bishop  said :  '  Be- 
cause unless  we  keep  them  at  a  certain  disadvantage 


56  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

they  would  proselyte  us  to  their  religion.  The  Jew's 
one  God  doctrine  is  very  simple;  he  has  kept  him- 
self strong  and  unconquered  by  remaining  stead- 
fast in  his  belief.  You  see  he  takes  the  position  that 
he  is  correct  even  if  he  concedes  that  Christ  was  the 
Messiah,  for  if  Christ  is  after  all  God,  the  Jew  wor- 
ships Him,  or  whoever  may  be  God;  so  he  is  sure  of 
his  position  that  he  worships  God,  while  if  we  are 
mistaken  in  our  belief  regarding  the  Trinity,  our  mis- 
take is  grievous.  The  Jew  has  his  faults,  but  he 
has  also  his  virtues;  and  while  we  persist  in  trying  to 
impute  evil  to  all  he  does,  yet  time  overcomes  all  our 
acts  against  him.  Can  it  be  the  force  of  truth  that 
always  finds  its  way  to  the  surface?  It  must  be 
this,  for  I  find  that  nothing,  not  even  of  the  material 
advantages  that  life  offers,  shakes  the  Jew  from  his 
faith.'  " 

The  visit  to  the  synagogue  with  Remenyi  and  all 
that  occurred  impressed  me  deeply,  and  when  he 
died,  I  knew  then  he  was  a  Jew. 

Henry  J.  Kowalsky. 


ACQUAINTANCE  AND  FRIENDSHIP  WITH 
REMENYI 

WHEN  it  was  advertised  in  the  Autumn  of 
1882  that  the  renowned  violinist,  Edouard 
Remenyi,  was  to  give  a  concert  in  Columbus,  Ohio, 
all  music-lovers  anticipated  a  treat,  but  only  those 
of  us  who  had  heard  him  before  knew  how  great  a 
one.  There  was  a  surprise  for  his  audience,  that 
of  hearing  what  wondrous  tones  the  master  could 
draw  from  a  brand-new  violin,  made  in  Columbus  by 
a  man  named  Hesketh;  for  me  there  was  the  be- 
ginning of  a  personal  acquaintance  which  endured 
until  the  maestro's  death. 

A  young  friend  who  had  made  one  of  our  party  in 
Europe  a  few  years  before  had  become  a  journalist, 
and  in  that  capacity  it  was  his  privilege  to  interview 
Remenyi,  who  was  more  than  pleased  to  meet  a  trav- 
eller and  a  polyglot  so  unexpectedly.  The  young 
man  was  also  surprised  to  find  in  Remenyi  an  inter- 
esting, witty,  and  well-informed  man  as  well  as  a 
brilliant  virtuoso.  He  asked  permission  to  bring 
him  to  call  upon  me. 

Descending  to  the  drawing-room,  I  found  Remenyi 

57 


58  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

seated  at  the  piano,  his  soft  felt  hat  beside  him  on 
the  floor.  He  was  running  his  fingers  over  the  keys, 
looking  up  at  a  picture  on  the  wall,  but  he  rose  at 
once,  acknowledging  his  introduction  in  his  gallant 
but  jerky  manner;  then,  turning  with  a  glance  which 
circled  the  room,  he  said:  "  Ah,  madame!  I  enter 
your  house;  I  tread  upon  this  noble  rug;  I  gaze 
upon  my  love,  the  *  Milo '  there  (referring  to  a  Barbe- 
dienne  bronze),  and  we  are  friends.  When  I  saw  her 
for  the  first  time,  when  I  first  went  to  Paris,  I  bowed 
in  adoration,  and  it  is  the  shrine  I  have  ever  since 
visited  first,  until  my  love  for  her  has  become  a  veri- 
table craze,  craze,  craze.^^  Then,  glancing  at  the 
pictures  on  the  walls,  he  said:  "  You  see,  madame, 
I  have  never  met  you  before;  but  I  enter  through  the 
Ionic  columns  of  the  peristyle  of  this  Greek  temple, 
your  home;  I  see  your  pictures;  I  gaze  upon  my 
love;  I  stand  upon  this  noble  rug;  and  so  I  know 
your  tastes  and  mine  are  the  same ;  and  people  should 
be  friends  who  love  the  same  beautiful  things."  It 
was,  as  often  after,  almost  a  monologue. 

It  happened  that  upon  the  same  evening  as  the  con- 
cert. Professor  David  Swing  of  Chicago  was  to  give 
his  lecture  upon  "  The  Novel."  It  was  delivered  in 
the  High  Street  Congregational  Church,  of  which  the 
pastor  was  the  Rev.  Frank  Gunsaulus.  Professor 
Swing  was  to  be  our  guest,  and  my  husband,  who  had 
gone  to  meet  him,  arrived  with  the  Professor  before 
Remenyi  had  ended  his  visit.    I  wish  I  could  recall 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  REMENYI  59 

the  conversation  in  detail  with  its  many  bright  flashes, 
but  can  only  remember  its  general  quality.  After 
one  rather  serious  reflection  of  Remenyi^s,  a  quick 
turn  from  gay  to  grave,  Professor  Swing  remarked: 
"  You  are  a  philosopher,  Mr.  Remenyi." 

"  Oh,  yes,  in  a  way.  A  fiddling  philosopher  or 
philosophical  fiddler,  as  you  like." 

Remenyi  told  me  that  he  had  promised  to  play  at 
the  Asylum  for  the  Blind  the  following  morning,  and 
would  take  the  liberty  of  asking  me  to  come  and 
bring  "  the  little  one  " — the  compiler  of  these  me- 
moirs —  and  any  special  friends  who  would  really 
enjoy  it,  "  for,''  he  said,  "  I  shall  play  from  my  heart 
—  and  touch  theirs."  I  took  two  friends  and  "  the 
little  one,"  and  was  more  impressed  than  ever  before 
by  the  quality  and  sympathy  of  Remenyi's  playing 
and  his  selections.  There  was,  of  course,  no  pro- 
gramme, but  some  of  the  pieces  were  so  tender  and 
pathetic  as  to  make  one's  heart-strings  vibrate  as 
if  the  violinist  were  playing  upon  them.  Then  when 
he  had  moved  his  sensitive  hearers  to  sympathy,  he 
played  a  "  caprice  "  and  next  the  riotous  "  Carni- 
val of  Venice,"  with  brilliant  and  intricate  impro- 
vised variations,  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of  doing  with 
this  theme,  in  which  he  let  his  merriment  and  fancy 
have  free  range,  until  he  aroused  a  corresponding  and 
responsive  enthusiasm.  All  this  time  he  watched 
the  faces  before  him  with  their  sightless  eyes,  as  they 
reflected  in  their  expressions  and  by  unconscious 


6o  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

movements  the  emotions  he  produced  in  their  re- 
sponsive breasts.  Then  one  or  two  of  the  most  pro- 
ficient of  the  bhnd  musicians  played  for  him,  and 
we  moved  to  go.  The  matron  urged  him  so  strongly 
to  stay  for  luncheon  that  to  my  surprise  he  finally 
said:  "  I  regret  that  I  cannot,  but  I  am  engaged  to 
lunch  with  Mrs.  Kelley,  am  I  not?" 

I,  of  course,  said,  "  Yes,"  and  he  was  excused.  He 
explained  that  he  could  not  stand  the  strain,  and 
felt  that  I  would  understand.  In  the  course  of  our 
repast  he  looked  over  the  table  inquiringly  and  asked, 
"  Have  you  any  more  of  that  sweetmeat  I  had 
yesterday?  It  was  awful  good."  I  ordered  some 
sweet  pickle  of  watermelon.  It  was  brought  in  a 
glass  pickle-dish,  which  he  appropriated  and  put  be- 
side his  plate,  exclaiming,  "  Good!  Thank  you!" 
giving  little  smacks  and  blinking  his  eyes  as  he  first 
tasted  it. 

During  this  visit  he  spoke  of  much  that  was 
interesting — the  golden  age  of  Hungary  under 
Mathias  Corvinus,  the  heroism  of  the  leaders,  the 
persecutions  of  the  people,  and  their  still  uncon- 
quered  pride.  He  was  fluent  to  eloquence  and  full 
of  the  fire  of  patriotism. 

He  left  Columbus  that  afternoon,  but  his  informal 
visits  and  his  conversation,  so  full  of  the  taste  of  the 
connoisseur  in  art,  of  the  genius  of  the  musician,  and 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  patriot,  left  a  lasting  impres- 
sion.   Later  he  sent  me  a  photograph,  inscribed,  and 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  REMENYI  6i 

one  or  two  little  letters;  but  his  travels  carried  him 
far.  I  was  out  of  the  country  when  he  was  in  it,  and 
it  was  many  years  before  we  met  again.  It  was  so 
long,  indeed,  that  the  little  incidents  which  marked 
his  visit  in  my  mind  might  have  been  crowded  from 
his  memory,  in  his  varying  and  exciting  experiences 
in  remote  lands. 

In  the  Spring  of  1897  he  again  visited  Columbus, 
and  gave  a  concert  there  and  in  several  of  the  more 
important  neighboring  towns.  At  the  close  of  the 
concert  my  husband  made  an  appomtment  for  him 
to  call  at  our  house  the  next  day.  When  I  met  him 
he  exclaimed,  "  Still  living  in  the  Greek  temple! 
It  is  long  since  I  entered  from  its  Ionic  porch."  It 
sometimes  happens  where  tastes  are  congenial  that 
a  long  separation  serves  to  bring  persons  nearer  in- 
stead of  making  a  gap  between,  and  the  friendship 
which  might  seem  arrested  by  it  proves  to  have  been 
developed  mysteriously  and  is  taken  up  at  a  point 
far  in  advance  of  the  one  where  it  was  interrupted. 
So  it  was  in  this  case.  There  had  been  only  an 
acquaintance,  and  that  very  brief;  but  Remenyi  re- 
turned after  all  the  years  really  a  friend,  with  much 
to  tell  of  his  travels  —  of  disaster  by  sea  and  musical 
conquests  by  land;  of  fifty-nine  concerts  given  at 
intervals  at  Cape  Town  and  of  its  beauties  and  musi- 
cal taste;  of  the  typhoon  off  Madagascar;  of  his 
curios  and  his  pictures. 

"The  little  one  "  was  become  a  young  woman 


62  EDOUARD   REMENYI 

whose  education,  much  of  it  in  Europe,  had  given 
her  familiarity  with  several  tongues,  so  that  our  con- 
versation, like  his  letters,  was  a  pot  pourri  of  French, 
German,  and  Italian.  Her  studio  and  her  art-work 
interested  him  greatly,  especially  her  portrait  minia- 
ture of  the  beautiful  Queen  Margherita  of  Italy. 
Remenyi^s  expressions  of  approval  and  criticism 
were  frank  and  interesting.  During  his  stay  in  Co- 
lumbus, and  between  his  concerts  in  the  neighboring 
towns,  he  made  our  home  his  chief  stopping-place 
and  contributed  greatly  to  our  pleasure  from  the 
storehouse  of  his  knowledge. 

The  son  of  the  house  was  at  that  time  about  twelve 
years  of  age,  and  Remenyi  amused  himself  coining 
names  to  express  his  admiration  of  the  child .  ^  *  Adonis 
Appolonia  "  was  Remenyi's  favorite  name,  and  he 
likened  the  little  boy's  head  to  that  of  the  young 
Augustus.  "O  you  medallion-faced  little  rascal!" 
he  exclaimed  one  day,  "I  am  sorry  for  you,  for  people 
will  expect  you  to  keep  up  to  your  beauty;  where- 
as from  an  old  pumpkin-head  like  me  they  expect 
nothing,  and  when  they  find  my  brilliant  intelligence, 
they  are  surprised!" 

The  boy's  keen  enjoyment  of  his  humor  greatly 
attracted  Remenyi,  who,  when  near  him,  would  clap 
him  on  the  back  or  hug  him  around  the  shoulders  or 
wrestle  playfully  with  him.  Remenyi's  brilliancy 
and  his  frequent  flashes  of  wit  as  well  as  his  originality 
filled  his  conversation  with  surprises,  which  make  it 


ACQUAINTANCE   WITH  REMENYI  63 

extremely  difficult  to  recall  it  in  detail.  Everything 
was  suggestive  to  him  of  some  past  experience  or 
wise  and  philosophical  reflection.  He  showed  us  the 
old  small  photograph  of  himself  and  Brahms  taken 
together  when  both  were  young  men  in  Hamburg, 
in  1853,  which  is  reproduced  in  this  volume.  He 
told  of  his  friendship  with  Victor  Hugo  during  some 
years  when  they  occupied  apartments  under  the  same 
roof  in  Paris.  Speaking  one  day  of  the  lack  of  talent 
in  the  children  of  great  men,  he  was  reminded,  he  said, 
of  an  experience  of  the  great  author  when  asked  about 
his  son,  and  if  he  had  inherited  any  of  his  literary 
tastes  or  had  talent  in  any  other  of  the  arts. 

"  Mon  fils,^^  exclaimed  Hugo,  "  une  fee  a  assiste  d 
sa  naissance  et  lui  a  prodigue  tous  les  dons,  sauf  le  don 
de  s^en  servir,^^ 

He  told  us  of  his  intense  love  of  the  palm  and  his 
great  desire,  as  a  child,  to  see  that  tree,  for  he  knew 
it  only  from  pictures;  and  how,  when  he  had  saved 
a  little  money,  he  always  bought  books ;  of  his  rapture, 
on  his  first  visit  to  the  Riviera,  where  he  saw  the  living, 
growing,  tall  and  stately  palm  trees.  He  gave  us  the 
photograph  of  himself  with  the  palm  branch  above 
him  and  showed  us  a  leaf,  cut  long  before,  which  he 
always  kept  in  the  case  of  his  beloved  Stradivarius. 
He  told  us  of  the  assertion  of  someone  that  no  person 
could  compose  a  true  and  really  good  "Habanera,'^ 
and  how,  afterwards,  as  he  sat  in  a  grove  of  palms, 
the  wind  among  their  branches  produced  an  irregular 


64  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

riotous  clashing,  a  sort  of  syncopated  movement, 
which  inspired  him  to  compose  a  Habanera.  He 
called  it  "The  Palms,"  and  it  was  still  in  manu- 
script. He  talked  much  of  his  beloved  Hungary, 
and  told  us  of  a  movement  to  erect  a  statue  of  King 
Mathias  Corvinus,  to  be  dedicated  in  about  two  years, 
in  his  birthplace,  Kalozsvar,  in  Transylvania;  he 
said  that  he  should  go  there  to  conduct  his  grand 
national  hymn  on  that  occasion.  This  hymn  for 
five  hundred  voices  and  full  orchestra  was  to  be  pro- 
duced then  and  there  for  the  first  time. 

One  morning  he  asked  if  I  would  let  him  send  for 
his  accompanist  and  his  soprano  to  rehearse  at  our 
house  some  parts  of  the  programme  to  be  given  in  a 
neighboring  town  that  night.  Of  course  I  was  de- 
lighted, and  when  he  told  me  to  ask  a  few  musical 
friends,  I  felt  we  should  have  a  treat.  About  fifteen 
appreciative  ones  came  in  response  to  my  invitation. 
After  the  various  concert  selections  had  been  played 
and  sung  to  the  great  enjoyment  of  all,  Remenyi,  who 
was  in  high  spirits,  said,  "  Now  I  shall  play  for  you 
my  Habanera."  The  music  of  the  manuscript  was 
difficult  to  read  at  sight,  and  had  of  course  never  been 
studied,  but  a  friend  took  the  place  of  the  professional 
accompanist,  and  her  fine  instinct  and  tact,  supple- 
menting her  knowledge,  gave  sympathetic  support 
to  the  wonderful  playing  of  Remenyi.  What  verve! 
What  swinging  rhythm!  What  abandon  in  the 
riotous,  catchy  phrases !    One  could  hear  in  the  close 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  REMENYI  65 

harmonies  the  clashing  of  the  palm  branches,  like  the 
swish  and  swirl  of  dancers'  skirts.  Remenyi,  too, 
moved  about  his  end  of  the  room,  swaying  often 
in  sympathy  with  the  theme.  His  own  enthusiasm 
and  joyousness  were  so  contagious  that  it  seemed  as 
if  one  could  almost  see  in  fancy  a  whole  assembly  of 
gayly  dressed  peasants  whirling  and  swinging  to 
the  fascinating  and  capricious  music.  He  then  pro- 
duced the  manuscript  of  his  "  National  Hungarian 
Hymn  "  and  requested  of  his  pretty  and  sweet- voiced 
soprano  to  smg  the  air  at  sight.  The  piano  part 
taxed  all  the  efforts  of  the  reader  to  the  utmost,  and 
of  course  Remenyi's  violin  took  the  lead.  A  greater 
change  from  the  brilliancy  of  the  Habanera  can 
scarcely  be  imagined.  With  calm  dignity  the  hymn 
opened,  then  the  theme  became  more  elevated,  and 
the  symphonic  harmonies  more  complex.  Remenyi 
himself  moved  slowly  back  and  forth,  sometimes  with 
closed  eyes,  sometimes  tapping  the  pianist  with  his 
bow  for  sharper  accents.  Onward  and  upward 
swelled  the  musical  tide.  His  hearers  sat  spellbound 
and  almost  breathless,  as  the  soul  of  the  patriot  seemed 
to  be  seeking  expression  for  its  hope  of  freedom  and 
glory  through  the  genius  of  the  musician,  until, 
soaring  ever  onward,  the  music  reached  a  magnifi- 
cent climax  which  one  felt  was  his  dream  of  the 
apotheosis  of  his  beloved  Hungary.  We  who  listened 
can  never  forget,  for  it  is  rarely  given  to  follow  in  sym- 
pathy such  elevation  of  soul  and  sentiment.     After 


66  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

this  no  more  music  was  possible,  and  as  the  spell  was 
broken  the  company  fell  into  little  groups,  many  eager 
for  an  opportunity  to  talk  with  the  man  of  such  magic 
power.  Several  questions  were  asked  as  to  gypsy 
music,  but  Remenyi  asserted  from  his  knowledge  of 
the  gypsies  and  their  life  that  there  exists  no  sepa- 
rate gypsy  music  as  such. 

At  that  time  he  was  very  proud  of  the  iron  muscle 
of  his  arm,  and  maintained  that  his  diet  of  unleavened 
bread,  rolled  thin  and  baked  hard,  with  apples  and 
milk,  was  "  fit  for  a  king  "  and  the  best  thing  possible 
to  give  vigor  and  force.  Illness  had  necessitated 
this  diet,  but  he  was,  at  that  time,  full  of  health  and 
life  and  in  high  spirits,  effervescing  in  gayety,  revel- 
ling in  extravaganza,  and  using  and  inventing  slang 
which  was  irresistibly  funny. 

He  told  an  incident  of  one  of  his  first  trips  West, 
when  he  asked  in  Chicago  how  to  reach  a  certain 
town  in  Illinois.  The  clerk  said,  "  By  the  C,  B.  & 
Q."  Remenyi  was  entirely  at  a  loss  to  know  what 
he  meant,  but  replied,  "  Then  I  will  go  D.  A.  T." 

It  was  the  clerk's  turn  to  be  puzzled,  and  he  asked, 
"  What  does  that  mean?  " 

'^  Well,"  questioned  Remenyi,  '^  what  did  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  Chicago,  Burlington  &  Quincy,  of  course." 

"Ah!    I  meant  day  after  to-morrow. ^^ 

That  year  (1897)  he  was  making  a  long  concert 
tour  of  small  towns  through  the  country,  and  some 


ACQUAINTANCE   WITH  REMENYI  67 

of  his  letters,  or  extracts  from  them,  written  on  the 
wing  and  dropped  from  various  halting-places,  are 
given  in  this  volume.  They  were  dashed  off  at  odd 
moments,  and  are  full  of  the  effervescing  enthusiasm 
of  his  disposition.  His  rollicking  abandon  of  words 
and  phrases  in  various  languages,  many  of  his  own 
unique  coining,  contrasts  with,  and  often  cloaks,  his 
keen  and  deep  appreciation  of  the  characteristics  of 
nature,  men,  and  things  with  which  he  came  in 
contact.  His  habit  of  repeating  the  letters  of  a  word 
to  give  the  American  emphasis,  and  his  use  of  ex- 
travagant numbers  to  express  quantity,  were  most 
origmal  and  amusing. 

Much  of  the  following  Winter  (1898)  was  spent  in 
New  York  by  my  daughter  and  myself.  Over  that 
period  in  our  acquaintance  with  Remenyi  there  hangs 
the  shadow  of  his  terrible  depression  and  anxiety 
about  financial  affairs,  and  a  corresponding  lowering 
of  physical  force.  He  would  not  admit  the  last,  and 
loved  to  tell  how  he  could  outwalk  many  younger 
men  of  his  acquaintance.  He  was  a  frequent  visitor, 
sometimes  coming  late  in  the  evening,  often  on  Sun- 
day, and  occasionally  bringing  his  violin  and  playing 
as  he  loved  to  play.  The  contract  which  he  made 
that  season  was  a  great  trial  and  humiliation,  but  it 
was  forced  upon  him  as  the  most  continuous  and 
remunerative  engagement  he  could  make.  It  seemed 
to  appal  him  because,  by  the  terms  of  it,  he  "would 
be  obliged  to  play  for  a  long,  long  time."     It  was 


68  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

during  this  tour  that  he  went  West  on  the  trip  which 
ended  so  tragically  in  San  Francisco.  It  was  sad 
indeed  to  know  that  he  did  it  with  so  heavy  a  heart, 
feeliag  that  his  genius  was  harnessed  to  the  car  of 
Mammon  and  could  never  soar  free  again  in  a  pure 
artistic  atmosphere. 

I  can  never  forget  one  flight  of  his  highest  musical 
feeling.  I  wished  to  procure  a  violin  for  my  son,  and 
Remenyi  selected  two  for  me  to  choose  between. 
The  store  was  up  one  flight  of  stairs,  and  I  heard 
strains  of  the  violin  as  I  mounted.  On  entering  I 
found  Remenyi  seated  at  the  side  of  the  room  near  a 
case  of  violins,  among  which  were  one  or  two  of  his 
own  placed  on  sale.  He  had  taken  one  down  and 
was  literally  caressing  it.  He  begged  me  to  sit  down 
and  re-seated  himself.  He  did  not  have  much  to  say, 
seemed  distrait,  but  drew  soft  whisperings  of  music 
from  the  violin,  which  he  still  held. 

At  length  he  said,  "  Now  I  will  play  for  you, 
really,''^  and  he  did.  With  partly  closed  eyes  he 
played  through  the  intricacies  of  a  Bach  fugue,  with 
ever-increasing  brilliancy  and  intensity.  The  only 
two  others  in  the  large  square  room  were  standing 
near,  quite  motionless.  There  was  almost  a  gasp 
when  Remenyi  closed  that  most  complex  and  wonder- 
ful composition.  He  seemed  to  come  back  to  earth, 
and  after  some  feeble  effort  at  expression  on  my  part, 
he  exclaimed,  "  That  is  m-u-u-sic!  Oh,  yes,  I  can 
play."    A  man  who  was  present  and  who  was,  I 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  REMENYI  69 

learned  afterwards,  the  concert-meister  of  Theodore 
Thomas's  orchestra,  echoed,  "  He  can  play! " 

I  little  knew  as  I  left  New  York  a  few  days  after- 
wards that  it  was  the  last  time  I  ever  should  see  or 
hear  Edouard  Remenyi. 

Mary  Dunlevy  Kelley. 


VI 
SIDELIGHTS  ON  REMENYI  AS  A  MAN 

VOLUMES  might  be  written  on  the  dear  old 
man  it  was  my  privilege  to  call  friend,  but  it 
is  my  purpose  only  to  relate  a  few  instances  which 
came  under  my  observation  during  the  period  of  our 
acquaintance  that  reveal  some  of  the  more  intimate 
characteristics  of  the  man,  unknown  in  his  pro- 
fessional life. 

Remenyi  was  far  above  the  petty  jealousies  so 
often  indulged  in  by  artists,  and  was  ever  ready  to 
recognize  and  acknowledge  merit  in  others.  I  re- 
call a  striking  illustration  of  this  in  the  debut  of  Cesar 
Thompson,  at  Carnegie  Hall,  in  1894.  I  attended 
the  first  performance  with  Remenyi  and  his  son,  and 
probably  the  most  enthusiastic  of  the  audience  was 
Remenyi  himself.  How  he  raved  over  that  marvel- 
lous technician's  mastery  of  apparent  impossibilities! 
After  the  concert  he  was  not  satisfied  until  he  had 
ordered  a  floral  tribute  to  be  sent  at  once  to  him  with 
his  congratulations.  I  accompanied  him  home  that 
evening;  he  made  his  way  immediately  to  his  room 
and,  taking  a  violin,  began  practising  with  all  his  tire- 
less energy.    He  explained  to  us  later  that  he  had 

70 


SIDELIGHTS  ON  REMENYI  AS  A  MAN        71 

been  attempting  to  play  a  portion  of  the  afternoon's 
programme,  but  that  he  could  hardly  hope  to  dupli- 
cate Cesar's  performance,  the  smallness  of  his  hands 
interfering  seriously  with  some  of  its  technical  diffi- 
culties; he  said  he  would  try,  however.  Some  weeks 
later  he  called  several  of  us  into  his  room  and  with 
joyous  simplicity  played  for  us  the  very  things  he  had 
only  a  short  while  before  considered  beyond  him. 

Remenyi  always  held  that  constant  work  and 
study  were  absolutely  necessary,  irrespective  of 
natural  gifts,  and  he  rigidly  carried  out  that  theory 
throughout  his  life.  Nor  was  his  appreciation  of 
ability  confined  to  artists  of  world-wide  reputation, 
like  Thompson.  No  one  was  easier  of  access  than 
Remenyi,  and  during  the  years  I  had  the  privilege  of 
knowing  him  he  was  approached  by  many  aspiring 
violinists.  To  none  did  he  ever  refuse  a  hearing, 
and  wherever  he  saw  signs  of  promise  his  advice  and 
patronage  were  generously  given. 

On  one  occasion  he  was  invited  to  attend  some 
special  celebration  at  the  church  of  St.  Francis  Xavier 
in  New  York  City.  He  promised  to  play  twice  dur- 
ing mass,  but  was  so  impressed  with  the  perform- 
ance of  the  organist,  Dethier,  then  a  young  man  of 
twenty  years,  that  he  requested  Dethier  to  play  in 
his  stead  for  the  second  number. 

The  following  incident  in  connection  with  Remenyi 
brings  to  light  his  love  of  humor  and  his  solicitude 
for  his  fellow-man.    I  had  dined  with  his  family  on 


72  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Christmas  day  of  1896,  and,  as  he  was  leaving  for 
Bridgeport  that  afternoon,  I  gladly  volunteered  to 
accompany  him  to  the  station.  While  waiting  for 
the  gates  to  open  (for  the  train  was  not  yet  ready), 
our  attention  was  drawn  to  three  laborers  conversing 
loudly  in  Hungarian.  Remenyi  at  once  became  en- 
grossed with  the  subject  of  their  conversation,  and  in 
a  few  moments,  excusing  himself,  he  went  to  the 
ticket-office  and  returned  with  a  ticket,  which  he  pre- 
sented to  one  of  his  three  countrymen.  At  j&rst  they 
were  greatly  puzzled,  then  suddenly  they  grasped 
his  hands,  and  with  joy  and  laughter,  began  making 
speeches,  unintelligible  to  me.  After  Remenyi  had 
left  them  he  explained  that  the  three  men  were  going 
to  Bridgeport,  having  secured  positions  there.  He 
had  heard  one  of  them  sadly  remark  that  he  would 
be  unable  to  accompany  the  others,  not  having  the 
wherewithal  to  buy  his  ticket,  unless  the  good  Lord 
performed  some  miracle  before  the  train  left. 
Remenyi,  struck  with  the  pathetic  side  of  the  affair 
and  the  simple  faith  of  the  man,  immediately  per- 
formed the  hoped-for  miracle. 

If  to  the  world  Remenyi  was  a  great  artist,  to 
those  whose  good  fortune  it  was  to  know  him  in- 
timately he  was  also  a  great  man,  not  wholly  absorbed 
with  his  violin,  but  keenly  alive  to  everything  of 
interest  to  the  mind;  he  was  generously  responsive 
to  all  the  sensibilities  of  the  heart,  capable  of  dis- 
cussing Beethoven,  Angelo,  and  Shakespeare,  or  of 


SIDELIGHTS  ON  REMENYI  AS  A   MAN        73 

bestowing  alms  and  offering  a  helping  hand  with 
equal  grace  —  a  man  to  whom  none  of  the  human 
emotions  was  a  stranger,  and  who  merely  selected 
the  violin  as  best  fitted  to  give  them  all  expression. 

E.  T.  CORNELIS. 


VII 
REMENYI'S  HOME  AND  ITS  TREASURES 

SOME  years  ago  I  was  visiting  a  friend  in  Hun- 
gary, and  was  roused  one  morning  very  early 
by  a  noise  in  the  next  room  of  doors  slamming, 
windows  opening  and  shutting,  and  furniture  mov- 
ing about.  When  silence  reigned  once  more,  and 
I  was  just  falling  asleep,  there  was  a  knock  at  my 
door,  and  a  pretty,  fair-haired  boy,  looking  like  a 
girl  in  disguise,  walked  in,  saying:  "I  am  Plotenyi 
Nardor,  the  ardent  disciple  of  Remenyi  Ede,  who 
has  this  moment  taken  up  his  quarters  in  the  next 
room." 

"All  right.  Did  you  wake  me  up  simply  to  tell 
me  your  name  and  your  rank?'* 

"No,  but  to  beg  you  will  rise,  dress,  and  go  for  a 
walk.''  The  rascal  said  this  with  such  a  delight- 
fully obstinate  air  that  he  quite  won  my  heart. 

"Go  to  walk,  indeed!  "  I  cried. 

"Yes,  master  likes  to  practise  very  early  in  the 
morning  and  can't  bear  to  have  any  one  hear  him." 

"The  devil  take  you  and  your  master,  Remenyi 
Ede !  "  I  exclaimed.  The  young  fellow  turned  fiery 
red  and  shook  with  rage  and  amazement.  • 

74 


REMENYI'S  HOME  AND  ITS    TREASURES     75 

"Oh  sir,  sir,  would  you  have  the  devil  take  him, 
the  great  violinist,  the  successor  to  Bihary  ? '' 

"Is  your  master  a  gypsy?" 

"No,  but  he  is  the  only  violinist  who  has  the  true 
tradition  of  gypsy  music." 

"I  like  that  music,"  said  I,  "  so  I'll  get  up  and 
go  down  into  the  garden." 

"Oh, no,  sir!  Pray  go  for  a  long  walk.  See!" 
and  he  opened  the  window,  "every  one  has  left  the 
castle."  There,  indeed,  was  the  master  of  the  house 
leading  off  his  friends.  They  had  scarcely  slept 
three  hours.  I  joined  them  at  once,  and  everybody 
began  to  tell  me  Remenyi's  story. 

At  seventeen  he  was  attached  to  the  person  of 
Gorgey  as  a  private  violinist,  during  the  Hunga- 
rian war,  playing  before  and  after  a  battle.  He 
then  shared  the  exile  of  Count  Teleki  Sardor  and 
other  heroes,  spending  some  time  at  Guernsey, 
where  he  knew  Victor  Hugo.  Thence  he  went  to 
Hamburg,  London,  and  America,  where  he  played, 
going  from  triumph  to  triumph,  his  renown  grow- 
ing apace.  Returning  to  Hungary,  he  travelled  all 
over  the  country,  astonishing  high  and  low  alike, 
and  playing  with  the  same  poetry  and  fervor  in 
bams  and  palaces. 

I  slipped  away  and  returned  to  the  garden. 
Remenyi  was  playing  a  Bach  concerto.  I  uttered 
curses,  not  loud  but  deep.  So  it  was  to  play  a  Bach 
concerto  that  this  sham  gypsy  roused  me  at  dawn  1 


76  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

He  made  his  appearance  at  breakfast.  He  was 
a  common-looking  man  of  medium  size.  His  ex- 
pression conveyed  disdain  of  the  world,  yet  there 
was  something' jolly  in  his  look,  movement,  and  voice. 

"Remenyi  worked  well  this  morning,''  he  said, 
after  breakfast. 

He  never  spoke  save  to  praise  himself,  and  al- 
ways talked  of  himself  in  the  third  person. 

"Yes,  on  a  Bach  concerto,'*  said  I. 

He  drew  himself  up,  exclaiming:  "Remenyi  plays 
other  things,"  and  calling  Nardor,  he  asked  for  his 
violin.  Twenty  persons  ran  for  it.  He  played  a 
Hongroise.  With  the  first  note  his  vanity  dropped 
from  him  like  a  cloak.  He  possessed  every  quality 
that  genius  can  grant — imagination,  delirious  fancy, 
mild  caprice,  skill,  clearness,  precision,  eloquence, 
color.  He  laid  down  his  bow,  smiling  like  a  child. 
The  music  had  worked  a  wondrous  change  in  him. 
He  was  natural  and  ingenuous.  Now  and  then 
he  took  up  his  violin  and  played  one  strain  after 
another.  Thus  we  heard  the  ball-room  scene  from 
Berlioz's  "Romeo  and  Juliet."  It  was  like  a  mag- 
ical spell.  We  were  in  Italy;  the  silvery  moonbeams 
fell  on  the  silent  rows  of  cypress  trees  and  marble 
statues;  fountains  plashed,  then  a  fair  palace  ap- 
peared, all  light  and  music;  a  crowd  hurried  by, 
masked  and  gaily  dressed;  the  night  wind  wafted 
strains  of  dance  music  through  the  garden;  then  all 
this  faded,  and  we  heard  Juliet's  cry. 


REMENYI^S  HOME  AND  ITS  TREASURES     77 

When  I  thanked  the  great  artist  and  expressed 
my  admiration  of  his  wonderful  execution,  he  re- 
plied: "If  Remenyi  is  only  satisfied  with  himself!" 
with  an  expressive  gesture  to  complete  his  phrase. 

He  then  played  a  duet  with  Nardor.  Walking 
sternly  toward  the  mantelpiece,  he  stopped  the  pen- 
dulum of  a  clock  standing  there,  saying  to  his  host : 
"Let  this  clock  forever  mark  the  hour  when  Re- 
menyi played  to  you."  Horerath  Karoly,  to  whom 
he  spoke,  wept  with  emotion,  and  we  all  embraced 
Remenyi  in  turn.  Next  day  some  devil  of  obsti- 
nacy led  him  back  to  the  Bach  concerto. 

On  leaving,  he  invited  me  to  accompany  him  to 
his  home,  Rakos-Palota,  near  Pesth.  He  stopped 
at  every  village,  town,  and  castle  on  our  way,  and 
wherever  he  was  known  was  received  with  open 
arms.  If  unknown,  he  had  only  to  mention  his 
name  to  be  greeted  with  delight  and  enthusiasm. 

At  last  we  reached  Rakos-Palota.  Remenyi's 
house  was  a  long,  low  building  with  nothing  extra- 
ordinary about  it.  A  dirty  courtyard  filled  with 
poultry  lay  before  it,  and  a  few  thin  poplar  trees 
grew  about,  which  looked  so  much  like  admiration 
points  that  I  suspected  they  were  planted  expressly. 
Inside,  the  house  formed  a  long  gallery,  partitioned 
off  and  filled  with  every  imaginable  object  of  value 
and  rarity  —  all  presents.  There  were  curious  old 
jewels,  antique  rmgs,  and  gold  chains,  which  would 
drive  a  modern  jeweller  mad.    Carvings  and  every 


78  EDOUARD   REMENYI 

variety  of  rare  old  china  were  strewn  about,  and 
here  and  there  were  weapons  of  every  age,  old  coins, 
valuable  manuscripts,  tapestries,  and  paintings,  but 
his  special  treasures  were  a  pair  of  boots  which  had 
belonged  to  Liszt  when  a  child,  and  his  Hunga- 
rian sword. 

"Un  Cosaque." 


VIII 
REMENYI,  LISZT,  AND  BRAHMS 

AT  one  of  the  Philharmonic  concerts  in  the  Acad- 
emy of  Music  when  the  society  played  the  sec- 
ond symphony  of  Johannes  Brahms,  and  Edouard 
Remenyi,  the  great  violinist,  performed  for  the  first 
time  in  this  country  the  Concerto  Pathetique  by 
Ernst,  a  gentleman  observed  to  his  companion:  "It 
is  a  remarkable  fact  that  but  for  Remenyi  we  should 
probably  never  have  heard  of  Brahms  or  his  great 
symphonies.  There  is  a  curious  romance  connected 
with  the  two  artists."  Attracted  by  the  strange 
assertion,  the  writer  requested  further  information. 
"I  cannot  give  it,"  was  the  reply,  "for  I  know  only 
the  general  fact.  Go  and  see  Remenyi  himself; 
he  may  be  willmg  to  tell  you  the  story." 

Acting  on  the  suggestion,  the  writer  called  at  the 
Westminster  Hotel  and,  after  repeated  attempts, 
succeeded  in  finding  the  great  virtuoso  at  home, 
or  rather,  as  he  put  it,  in  his  "musical  den."  .  . 
.  .  .  When  the  writer  broached  the  subject  of 
his  visit  and  explained  the  incident  that  occasioned 
it,  a  cloud  temporarily  passed  over  the  features  of 
the  artist  and  he  remarked,    "What  you  heard  at 

79 


8o  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

the  Academy  is  true,  but  I  am  reluctant  to  give 
you  any  further  details.  It  is  a  secret  which  I  have 
carried  for  twenty-five  years,  and  I  see  no  necessity 
for  making  it  public  now." 

"Then  you  knew  Brahms  intimately?" 

"Quite  so;  yes,"  and  a  curious  smile  was  appar- 
ent. 

"Did  you  save  his  life,  or  anything  of  that  kind?" 

"Oh,  no  (the  smile  broadened),  but  we  were 
very  good  friends  in  our  boyhood,  as  you  may  in- 
fer from  this  picture,"  taking  from  an  escritoire 
an  old-fashioned  daguerreotype,  dated  on  the  back 
"Hamburg,  1853,"  and  representing  two  beardless 
youths,  one  Remenyi  sitting,  and  the  other  Johannes 
Brahms  standing,  with  his  hand  resting  familiarly 
on  the  shoulder  of  his  companion. 

"Then  you  must  have  known  Brahms  before  he 
met  Robert  Schumann?" 

"Yes,  I  did." 

"Yet,  did  not  Schumann  write  in  a  musical  jour- 
nal in  Leipsic  in  1853  the  startling  announcement 
that  in  the  person  of  Brahms  he  had  discovered  a 
new  messiah  in  music?" 

"That  is  true.  I  think  that  it  was  in  the  month 
of  October,  but  never  mind." 

"There  must,  therefore,  be  some  basis  for  the 
remark  that  I  overheard  at  the  Academy,  and  which 
has  brought  me  here." 

"Well,"  said  Remenyi,  impulsively,  "I  will  tell 


REMENYI,  WITH  BRAHMS,  THE  COMPOSER 


(  From  a  daguerreotype  made  in  Hamburg  in  January,  1853;  Remenyi 
sitting,  Brahms  standing ) 


REMENYI,    LISZT,  AND  BRAHMS  8i 

you,  although,  as  I  said  before,  I  am  reluctant  to 
reveal  that  which  I  have  carefully  withheld  for  a 
quarter  of  a  century.  Listen ! "  And  with  the  pic- 
ture in  his  hand,  he  commenced  to  pace  nervously 
up  and  down  the  floor. 

"I  was  in  Hamburg  toward  the  end  of  the  year 
1852,  a  kind  oi  enjant  gdtij  a  spoiled  child  of  the 
Slite  of  the  city.  There  was  scarcely  a  concert  or 
soirie  where  my  presence  and  assistance  were  not 
required.  Probably  much  of  this  kindness  and  at- 
tention were  due  to  the  fact  that  I  was  then  a  Hun- 
garian exile.  During  the  concerts,  it  was,  of  course, 
necessary  for  me  to  employ  the  services  of  an  ac- 
companist. In  January,  1853,  a  fashionable  mu- 
sical entertainment  was  announced  at  the  house  of 
one  of  the  great  merchant  princes  of  Hamburg,  a 
Mr.  Helmrich.  On  the  very  day  that  the  soirSe  was 
to  take  place  I  received  a  letter  from  my  regular 
accompanist  stating  that  he  would  be  unable  to  be 
present  that  evening,  owing  to  illness.  I  went 
across  the  street  from  my  hotel,  to  the  music  estab- 
lishment of  Mr.  Auguste  Bohm,  to  ascertain  where 
I  could  find  a  substitute.  In  answer  to  my  inquiries, 
that  gentleman  remarked,  in  a  nonchalant  manner, 
that  little  Johannes  would  perhaps  be  satisfactory. 
I  asked  what  sort  of  Johannes  he  was.  He  replied, 
'He  is  a  poor  piano-teacher,  whose  name  is  Johannes 
Brahms.  He  is  a  worthy  young  man,  a  good  musi- 
cian, and  very  devoted  to  his  family.'     'All  right,' 


S2  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

I  said ;  'send  him  to  the  hotel  in  the  afternoon,  and 
I  will  see  him.' 

"About  five  o'clock  of  the  same  day,  while  prac- 
tising in  my  room,  somebody  knocked  at  the  door, 
and  in  came  a  youth  with  a  very  high  soprano  voice, 
but  whose  features,  owing  to  the  dusk  of  the  evening, 
I  could  not  well  discern.  I  lighted  a  candle,  and 
then  saw  standing  before  me  a  young  man  who  ap- 
peared to  be  about  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  of 
age.  Both  of  us  at  that  time  were  mere  boys,  and 
probably  looked  younger  than  we  were  in  reality. 
He  observed  in  a  modest  way,  'My  name  is  Johannes 
Brahms.  I  have  been  sent  here  by  Mr.  Bohm  to 
accompany  you  and  shall  be  very  happy  if  I  can 
satisfy  you  as  an  assistant.'  We  began  to  rehearse 
at  once,  but  he  had  scarcely  touched  the  piano  be- 
fore I  found  that  he  was  a  far  better  musician  than 
my  previous  accompanist,  and  I  became  interested 
at  once  in  my  new-made  friend.  I  don't  know  why, 
but  at  that  very  instant  a  sort  of  aureole  seemed  to 
linger  around  his  face,  it  lighted  up  so  beautifully, 
and  I  distinctly  remember  soliloquizing  to  myself: 
'There  is  a  genius  here.  This  is  no  ordinary  pianist. 
Fate  has  laid  her  fingers  on  my  friend.'  I  addressed 
to  him  question  after  question  concerning  his  ca- 
reer, and  learned  its  most  important  details,  among 
other  things  that  he  made  compositions  of  his  own. 
We  ceased  rehearsing,  and  when  he  began  to  play 
one  of  his  sonatas,  violin  soiree  engagements  and 


REMENYI,  LISZT,  AND  BRAHMS  83 

everything  were  forgotten  in  the  intense  enthusiasm 
that  was  engendered  by  the  occasion.  I  was  electri- 
fied and  sat  in  mute  amazement.  I  could  not  help 
making  the  involuntary  remark,  'My  dear  Brahms, 
you  are  a  genius!'  He  smiled  in  a  melancholy  sort 
of  way  —  in  fact,  his  face  at  that  time  always  wore  a 
sad  and  thoughtful  expression  —  and  replied,  '  Well, 
if  I  am  a  genius,  I  am  certainly  not  much  recog- 
nized in  this  good  city  of  Hamburg.'  'But  they 
will  recognize  you,'  I  said,  'and  I  shall  henceforth 
tell  everybody  I  meet  that  I  have  discovered  in  you 
a  rare  musical  gem.'  You  may  imagine  the  char- 
acter of  that  interview  when  I  tell  you  we  did  not 
separate  until  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"The  people  at  Mr.  Helmrich's  were,  of  course, 
disappointed  and  very  angry  at  my  non-appearance, 
but  I  was  a  mere  boy  and  cared  little  for  con- 
sequences at  that  time.  The  result  was  that  I  lost 
many  similar  opportunities  and  became  a  sort  of 
laughing-stock  among  the  citizens  of  Hamburg. 
Some  of  them  sneeringly  said,  'As  you  don't  want 
us,  we  don't  want  you.  Since  you  have  found  a 
genius,  go  and  help  yourselves.'  I  took  up  the  gaunt- 
let. 

"Not  to  be  too  long  with  you,"  Remenyi  said, 
"I  have  only  to  say  that  all  of  my  engagements 
ceased,  but  I  clung  to  my  Johannes  through  thick 
and  thin,  feeling  that  all  I  said  about  him  must 
and  would  prove  true.    I  had  against  me  even 


84  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Marxsen,  his  teacher  of  counterpoint,  a  very  dig- 
nified man,  who  told  me  plainly,  '  Well,  well,  I  am 
very  sorry  for  your  judgment.  Johannes  Brahms 
may  have  some  talent,  but  he  is  certainly  not  the 
genius  you  stamp  him.'  My  reply  was  uniformly 
the  same.  His  own  father,  who  was  a  musician, 
likewise  failed  to  discover  the  peculiar  qualities 
possessed  by  his  gifted  son,  and  I  believe  my  judg- 
ment of  him  was  recognized  and  appreciated  only 
by  his  mother,  who,  with  the  instinctive  nature  of 
her  sex,  saw  when  it  was  pointed  out  to  her  that 
Johannes  had  before  him  the  future  of  a  great  mu- 


sician." 


"  What  was  the  condition  of  his  family  at  this 
time?" 

"They  were  in  humble  circumstances.  The  father 
played  contrabasso  in  small  orchestras,  but  was  not 
by  any  means  a  remarkable  musician.  Johannes 
lived  with  them  and  contributed  to  their  sup- 
port. He  was  bom  when  his  mother  was  at  a 
comparatively  advanced  age  —  what  I  would  call  a 
late-bom  child.  His  mother,  by  the  way,  was  older 
than  his  father." 

"  What  were  the  mental  characteristics  of 
Brahms?" 

"  He  was  a  great  reader,  especially  of  German 
poetry,  and  knew  the  best  of  it  more  or  less  by  heart. 
To  strangers  he  was  monosyllabic  in  conversation, 
inclined  to  be  moody  and  reticent,  but  when  alone 


REMENYI,  LISZT,   AND  BRAHMS  85 

with  me  he  was  joyous  and  communicative.  In 
fact  he  had  perfect  reliance  on  my  judgment  that 
he  would  succeed,  and  seemed  to  accept  my  pre- 
dictions just  as  much  as  if  they  were  a  matter  of 
fate.  At  this  time  he  was  giving  lessons  for  the 
paltry  sum  of  fifteen  cents  an  hour.  I  determined 
to  take  him  away  from  Hamburg,  but  everybody, 
with  the  exception  of  his  mother,  smiled  at  the  sug- 
gestion, and  regarded  it  as  fraught  with  folly.  How- 
ever, in  the  Spring  of  1853  we  left  the  city  for  the 
purpose  of  going  to  Weimar,  but  to  get  there  we 
required  money,  and  we  had  none.  We  had,  there- 
fore, to  play  our  way  from  station  to  station,  giving 
concerts  in  small  villages  and  towns,  writing  and 
distributing  the  programmes  ourselves,  and  to  be 
content  with  receipts  that  did  not  average  more 
than  five  or  ten  dollars.  From  an  enfant  gdte  you 
see  I  came  down  to  a  very  humble  position,  but  I 
never  despaired.  Everywhere  en  route  I  recom- 
mended my  Johannes  to  everybody  as  a  genius, 
for  I  desired  him,  in  my  enthusiasm,  to  be  recog- 
nized by  the  whole  world.  At  last  we  reached  Han- 
over, when  I  went  straight  to  Joseph  Joachim,  with 
whom  I  had  studied  in  the  Conservatory  at  Vienna. 
He  was  at  this  time  about  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
and  a  favorite  of  the  blind  King  (who  is  now  dead), 
occupying  the  position  of  concertmeister  to  His 
Majesty.  I  at  once  told  him  that  I  had  no  money, 
and  that  he  must  assist  me.    I  also  said  that  I  had 


86  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

left  behind  me  in  a  little  inn  a  young  companion, 
named  Johannes  Brahms,  who  was  a  musical  genius. 
At  this  stereotyped  statement  he  smiled,  and  said 
that  he  would  willingly  recommend  me  and  my  com- 
panion to  the  King,  in  order  that  we  might,  per- 
haps, obtain  the  privilege  of  giving  a  concert  before 
him,  and  thus  secure  a  sufficient  sum  to  carry  us 
on  our  way. 

"  In  the  afternoon  of  that  day  I  was  called,  with 
Joachim,  to  the  presence  of  His  Majesty.  He  in- 
quired whom  I  desired  for  an  accompanist  and  I 
replied, '  Your  Majesty,  I  want  none,  because  I  have 
one  with  me  whom  I  regard  as  a  great  musical 
genius.'  The  blind  King  replied,  'Well,  we  will 
hear  your  genius  in  the  evening,  when  you  shall 
give  a  concert  in  the  court  circle.'  In  the  course  of 
the  evening  the  King  asked  Brahms  to  play  some 
of  his  own  compositions.  When  he  had  finished. 
His  Majesty,  taking  my  hand,  led  me  to  the  win- 
dow and  said:  'My  dear  Mr.  Remenyi,  I  believe 
you  are  carried  away  by  your  enthusiasm;  your 
musical  genius  has  no  genius  at  all. '  This  historical 
moment  was  recalled  to  me  by  the  King  himself 
when  in  Paris  in  1874.  At  a  concert  at  the  Salle 
Herz,  after  I  had  finished  playing,  he  observed  to 
me:  'With  reference  to  your  friend  Johannes 
Brahms,  you  were  right,  and  we  were  all  wrong.  I 
remember  your  prediction  in  1853  concerning  that 
young  lad,  and  his  present  reputation  is  an  honor 


REMENYI,   LISZT,  AND   BRAHMS  87 

to  your  judgment.'  The  present  Duke  of  Cumber- 
land, the  son  of  the  King,  and  the  whole  suite  were 
standing  near  by  when  His  Majesty  recapitulated 
the  circumstances  in  detail.  They  all  stared  at 
me. 

"  From  Hanover  we  went  to  Weimar,  then  the 
home  of  Liszt,  and  proceeded  to  the  H6tel  de  Russie. 
I  dressed  in  my  finest  clothes  for  the  great  event  of 
presenting  myself  to  him.  I  went  to  his  residence 
alone,  and  had  scarcely  arrived  before  I  was  ushered 
into  a  beautiful  drawing-room  full  of  the  most  ex- 
quisite objects  of  art,  where  I  tremblingly  awaited 
the  appearance  of  the  great  man.  As  he  came, 
the  sight  of  his  fine  Dantesque  face,  which  once 
seen  can  never  be  forgotten,  almost  overwhelmed 
me,  but  in  a  very  few  moments  his  kind  manners 
and  fine  conversation  put  me  completely  at  ease 
and  restored  me  my  self-possession.  I  told  him 
frankly  that  I  desired  to  avail  myself  of  his  instruc- 
tion in  music.  He  at  once  consented,  adding  that 
it  would  give  him  an  especial  pleasure  to  teach  me 
because  I  was  a  fellow-countryman,  a  Hungarian. 
He  said  he  had  heard  of  me,  and  had  made  many 
inquiries  concerning  my  past  experience.  In  the 
course  of  the  conversation  he  facetiously  inquired 
if  I  was  well  supplied  with  money.  I  told  him  I 
had  little  or  none.  *  Where  do  you  live  ? '  said  he. 
I  told  him  I  was  at  a  neighboring  hotel.  He  said, 
*  Get  your  things  together  and  come  and  live  with 


88  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

me.'  You  cannot  imagine  my  feelings.  I  was 
again  overwhelmed,  but  this  time  with  joy  and  grati- 
tude. I  said  to  him  '  But,  my  dear  master,  I  am 
not  alone, '  and  in  a  few  hurried  words  explained 
the  discovery  I  had  made  in  Hamburg,  and  de- 
scribed my  friend  Johannes.  *  Oh,  well, '  said  he, 
4t  does  not  matter.  Come  and  live  here  together.' 
A  heavy  weight  fell  from  my  breast,  and  I  ran  back 
to  the  hotel,  carrying  the  good  news.  Brahms  was 
as  much  overjoyed  as  myself.  We  packed  our 
baggage,  and  the  next  morning  went  to  Altenberg, 
the  residence  of  Liszt.  After  being  comfortably 
installed,  the  great  master  said:  'Well,  what  is  your 
genius,  as  you  call  him,  able  to  do?'  *  Master, 
he  will  play  you  some  of  his  own  compositions, 
which  I  hope  will  satisfy  your  high  judgment.' 
Brahms  was  therefore  invited  to  sit  down  to  the 
piano,  but  hesitated,  not  daring  to  do  so  in  the 
presence  of  so  illustrious  a  personage.  Seeing 
this,  Liszt  kindly  said :  *  If  you  have  your  composi- 
tions at  hand  I  will  play  them  for  you.'  He  played 
two  or  three  of  them,  as  only  the  great  maestro  is 
able  to  play,  at  first  sight.  Brahms  was  overpowered, 
and  I  wept.  After  finishing  them,  Liszt  left  the 
piano,  and  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  saying 
nothing  except  *  Well,  well!  We  shall  see! ' —  noth- 
ing more,  and  relapsed  into  silence.  After  this 
pupils  came  in,  and  one  of  those  interesting  lessons 
was  given  which  are  only  to  be  witnessed  at  the 


REMENYI,  LISZT,  AND  BRAHMS  89 

Altenberg,  where  music  was  better  taught  and  in  a 
more  congenial  way  than  anywhere  else  in  the  world. 
It  was  a  combination  of  theory  and  practice  illus- 
trated by  the  brain  and  fingers  of  the  greatest 
exponent  of  music  who  lives.  I  have  no  need  to 
say  that  the  pupils  regarded  Liszt  with  veneration; 
in  fact,  almost  worshipped  him. 

"And  now  comes  an  incident  which  has  been 
a  puzzle  to  me  until  the  present  time.  While  Liszt 
was  playing  most  sublimely  to  his  pupils,  Brahms 
calmly  slept  in  a  fauteuil,  or  at  least  seemed  to  do  so. 
It  was  an  act  that  produced  bad  blood  among  those 
present,  and  everybody  looked  astonished  and  an- 
noyed. I  was  thunderstruck.  In  going  out  I  ques- 
tioned Brahms  concerning  his  behavior.  His  only 
excuse  w2ls:  "Well,  I  was  overcome  with  fatigue;  I 
could  not  help  it."  My  friend,  William  Mason,  a 
distinguished  American  pianist  and  teacher,  who 
is  now  in  this  city,  was  present  on  the  memorable 
occasion  and  will  corroborate  the  circumstance  I 
have  described.  I  mentioned  it  to  him  only  the 
other  day,  and  he  remembered  it  perfectly.  I  said 
to  Brahms:  'Whatever  the  cause,  that  moment  was 
not  the  time  for  sleep,  and  I  see  clearly  that  there  is 
no  staying  for  you  here.'  I  commenced  to  think 
about  his  removal  to  a  more  congenial  place,  still 
determined,  however,  to  adhere  to  my  first  judg- 
ment. After  a  week's  residence  at  Altenberg,  I 
said  to  Brahms:  *  It  is  useless  for  you  to  remain  in 


go  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

this  neighborhood  any  longer,  still  I  cannot  go  with 
you,  because  the  great  master  is  kind  to  me  and  I 
must  continue  my  studies  with  him,  therefore  I  will 
write  a  letter  for  you  to  Joseph  Joachim,  praying  that 
he  will  send  you  to  Robert  Schumann,  at  Diisseldorf  / 
He  agreed  to  the  proposition.  We  put  our  little 
funds  together,  with  which  Brahms  was  able  to 
reach  Hanover,  whence  he  went  straight  to  Robert 
Schumann  with  a  letter  of  introduction  from  my 
friend  Joachim.  Strangely  enough  I  did  not  hear 
anything  from  Brahms  for  some  time;  probably  he 
forgot  me  [and  Remenyi  said  it  painfully].  One 
day  while  sitting  at  dinner  with  Liszt  (it  was  his 
habit  to  open  his  letters  and  newspapers  while 
eating)  he  turned  to  me  suddenly  with  the  remark: 
'Well,  Remenyi,  it  seems  that  your  judgment  is  right, 
after  all.  Here  is  a  letter  in  "  The  Leipsic  New 
Musical  Journal,"  written  by  Robert  Schumann, 
that  will  astonish  the  musical  world.  It  says  that  a 
"  new  musical  messiah  has  arrived,  and  that  Minerva 
stood  at  the  cradle  of  Johannes  Brahms."  '  I  burst 
into  tears,  for  I  felt  in  an  instant  that  it  was  a  rec- 
ompense for  the  devotion  and  persistency  with  which 
I  had  unselfishly  adhered  to  the  fortunes  of  my 
friend.  Liszt  became  very  thoughtful  and  said 
nothmg  more.  From  that  moment  I  waited  for  a 
letter  from  Brahms,  but  it  never  came.  And  this," 
said  Remenyi,  "is  the  plain  narrative  of  the  incident 


REMENYI,  LISZT,  AND  BRAHMS  91 

which  you  have  asked  me  to  divulge,  and  which  for 
twenty  years  I  have  held  sacred.'* 

"By  the  way,"  added  the  speaker,  turning  to  a 
volume,  "I  see  it  is  stated  here  that  *in  1853  young 
Brahms  made  his  first  concert  tour,  and  by  mere 
chance  went  to  Diisseldorf,  where  he  took  the  occa- 
sion to  make  the  acquaintance  of  Schumann.'  You 
see  from  what  I  have  said  that  it  is  absolutely  not  true. 
The  visit  to  Schumann  was  most  deliberately  ar- 
ranged by  myself,  and  my  letter  to  Joachim  and  the 
letter  from  Joachim  to  Schumann  were  simply 
stepping-stones  in  the  career  of  Johannes  Brahms." 

"Have  you  met  Brahms  in  person  since  that  time  ?  " 

"Yes,  twice.  We  were  a  few  hours  together,  but 
no  reference  was  made  by  either  of  us  to  the  past. 
If  he  remembered  it  he  may  have  had  his  reasons  for 
shunning  the  subject,  and  I  certainly  did  not  care 
to  recall  it  to  his  mind.  Our  conversation  was  of  a 
general  character." 

"Now,  let  me  ask  you  another  question.  Why  is 
it  you  never  play  Brahms's  'Hungarian  Dances,' 
being  a  Hungarian  yourself,  and  a  natural  lover  of 
your  own  national  music?" 

At  this  question  Remenyi's  face  became  suddenly 
clouded:  in  fact,  it  was  covered  with  a  shadow  of 
pain.  He  replied  after  a  moment,  laying  down  the 
above-mentioned  daguerreotype.  "Ah!  there  is  an- 
other point  of  history.    You  will  remember  that  I 


92  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

told  you  we  travelled  from  village  to  village,  earning 
a  few  dollars  by  the  wayside.  In  the  hotels  at  night, 
for  the  purpose  of  killing  time,  it  was  my  habit  to 
compose  Hungarian  melodies.  Some  of  these  I 
showed  to  him.  To  several,  for  the  purpose  of  ma- 
king an  innocent  deception,  I  gave  the  name  of 
national  airs,  without  saying  by  whom  they  were 
written,  and  my  pleasure  was  always  boundless 
when  I  heard  him  describe  them  as  good,  knowing 
that  he  was  an  impartial  judge  and  appreciated 
that  which  was  excellent  in  our  art.  One  day,  in 
1868,  after  I  had  received  my  amnesty  and  was  per- 
mitted to  return  to  Hungary  and  travel  unrestrain- 
edly elsewhere,  I  happened  to  be  in  Vienna,  and  by 
accident  went  into  a  music  store  for  the  purpose  of 
learning  what  new  publications  had  appeared. 
Among  the  pieces  that  were  handed  me  were  a 
series  of  Hungarian  dances,  which  the  proprietor  of 
the  establishment  said  were  making  a  sensation 
all  over  the  civilized  world.  I  overlooked  them 
feverishly  and  discovered  at  once  the  origin  of  every 
one  of  the  ten  numbers.  It  is  true  that  in  the  first 
editions  made  by  Simrock,  the  title-page  contained 
the  words,  *  Hungarian  Dances,'  followed,  in  very 
small  letters,  by  the  words,  *  transcribed  by  (gesetzt),' 
and  then  the  words,  in  large  letters,  'Johannes  Brahms' ; 
but  since  that  time  new  editions  have  appeared  as 
the  compositions  of  Brahms  himself,  and  he  must  be 
aware  of  the   fact.      Indeed    [turning  to  a  file  of 


REMENYI,  LISZT,  AND  BRAHMS  93 

music],  you  can  see  here  that  his  name  is  boldly 
attached  to  these  dances,  as  if  he  were  the  actual 
composer.  Now,  the  fact  is  that  the  ten  composi- 
tions have  the  following  origin : 

"  The  first,  in  G  minor,  is  called  in  Hungary  the 
*  Divine  Czardas,'  and  was  published  early  in  1850 
by  the  music  firm,  Rozsavolgyi,  of  Pesth,  as  you 
may  see. 

"  The  second,  in  D  minor,  is  a  popular  czardas 
known  all  over  Hungary  from  time  immemorial. 

"  The  third  is  in  F  minor,  and  the  first  part  of  it 
is  my  own.  The  second  part  is  No.  5  of  the  *  Tolnai 
Lakadalmas '  czardas,  by  Riszner. 

"  No.  4  is  not  a  Hungarian  air  at  all,  but  a  bad 
imitation  of  Schubert's  world-renowned  serenade, 
travestied  into  a  czardas. 

^  "  No.  5,  the  first  part  in  F  sharp  minor,  is  a  popu- 
lar czardas  by  an  unknown  author.  The  second 
part  ism  F  sharp  major;  it  is  not  at  all  Hungarian, 
but  a  Slavonic  dancing-air  of  olden  time. 

"  No.  6  is  a  favorite  czardas  which  became  very 
popular  in  Hungary  in  the  year  1861,  and  was,  I  be- 
lieve, composed  by  Nittinger.  Hungarian  popular 
composers  are  very  careless  about  their  authorship 
and  then:  copyrights,  and  I  hope  they  will  be  sharper 
hereafter. 

"  No.  7,  in  F,  is  entirely  my  own  and  very  gen- 
erally played. 

"No.    8,   in   A   minor,    is    a   popular    czardas 


94  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

composed  by  Szabady-Frank,  and  has  been  known 
during  the  last  twenty-five  years  in  Hungary  by 
the  name  of  'Louisa  Czardas.'  It  has  a  singular 
resemblance  to  a  duetto  in  *  Lucia  di  Lammermoor.' 

"  No.  9,  in  E  minor,  is  an  air  by  some  unknown 
Hungarian  warbler  or  troubadour.  It  is  very  fine, 
and  it  was  given  to  Brahms  by  me  in  1853  during 
our  peregrinations. 

"No.  10,  is,  again,  taken  from  the  very  popular 
'Tolnai  Lakadalmas'  czardas,  by  Riszner,  the  music 
published  by  Wagner,  and  printed  in  Pesth  about 
the  year  1840.  One  or  two  are  Hungarian  dances 
composed  by  Keler  Bela,  but  which  I  do  not  know 
precisely. 

"You  see,  therefore,  why  I  am  averse  to  the  per- 
formance of  these  so-called  '  Brahms'  dances.'  I 
have  been  asked  to  play  them  many  times,  but  have 
uniformly  answered  'no,'  for  I  knew  them  long  be- 
fore they  ever  appeared  with  the  name  of  Brahms 
as  their  figurehead." 

"But  if  some  of  these  are  your  own  compositions, 
why  don't  you  play  them?" 

"  For  the  simple  reason  that  the  public  may  think 
I  am  not  playing  them  in  the  right  way,  inasmuch 
as  they  have  been  accustomed  to  hearing  them  given 
in  a  style  totally  different  from  my  own,  although 
I  think  you  will  concede  that  I  ought  to  be  the  best 
judge  of  the  manner  in  which  my  own  compositions 
should  be  performed." 


)  3 


''\i'^-^M<i 


EDOUARD  REMENYI  AND  MAXIMILIAN  VOGRICH 
(  From  a  photograph  taken  in  1879  ) 


REMENYI,  LISZT.  AND  BRAHMS  95 

A  rap  at  the  door  at  this  moment  announced  the 
arrival  of  two  or  three  gentlemen,  and  the  interview 
was  thus  brought  to  a  close.  Remenyi,  however, 
took  occasion  to  say  hurriedly  that  during  his  stay 
in  New  York  he  had  found  another  artist — a  brother 
Hungarian — who  might  be  appropriately  described 
as  the  coming  man  in  musical  composition,  and  who 
was  destined  for  a  remarkable  career*    He  said: 

"  If,  as  a  boy,  I  judged  so  well  for  Brahms,  I  have 
now  the  courage,  after  twenty-five  years*  experience, 
without  fear  of  denial,  to  declare  that  I  have  discov- 
ered another  musical  genius.  I  know  that  when  I  an- 
nounce his  name  it  will  be  the  signal  for  the  opening 
of  all  the  vials  of  malice  and  professional  jealousy, 
but  if  the  Almighty  preserves  him  in  health,  believe 
me  that  you  will  yet  see  masterpieces  by  a  man 
who  has  been  prodigally  endowed  by  nature  and  who 
will  illustrate  his  gifts  in  a  manner  that  will  astonish 
the  lovers  of  all  truly  great  music.  He  has  the  head 
of  a  Mozart." 

"What  is  his  name?" 

"  I  will  reserve  that  until  I  see  you  again." 

— ^New  York  Herald,  Jan.  18,  1879. 

*  Remenyi  referred  to  his  protege^  Maximilian  Vogrich,  the  composer. 


IX 
REMENYI  AS  A  PATRIOT 

DURING  the  Hungarian  Revolution  of  1848 
and  1849  Remenyi  played  a  prominent  part. 
Though  he  did  not  actually  fight,  he  was  present  at 
the  most  important  battles.  During  the  engagements, 
and  also  after  a  day's  fighting  was  over,  he  encour- 
aged the  patriots  to  action  by  playing  patriotic  battle 
airs  and  hymns  in  his  inimitable  style.  So  stirring, 
indeed,  was  the  effect  of  his  activities  that  special 
efforts  were  made  by  the  Austrians  and  Russians  to 
capture  him,  for  they  considered  him  as  important 
a  factor  as  some  of  the  leaders.  After  the  surrender 
at  Vilkgos,  in  1849,  Remenyi  fled  from  Hungary 
with  other  patriots. 

During  the  '50's,  he  returned  and  found  that  Hun- 
gary was  almost  like  a  graveyard;  the  Magyar 
people  were  suffering  in  silence  from  the  tyranny 
of  their  Austrian  oppressors.  It  was  then  that,  go- 
ing from  city  to  city  and  from  village  to  village,  Re- 
menyi, playing  the  soul-stirring  "Racokzy  March," 
infused  new  blood  into  the  people,  called  them  to 
action,  and  animated  the  patriots.  The  effect  was 
so  tremendous  that  it  alarmed  the  government.  An 
ofificial  edict  was  issued  forbidding  Remenyi,  under 

96 


REMENYI  AS  A  PATRIOT  97 

the  penalty  of  death,  to  play  with  this  purpose  in 
view.  Undaunted  by  this  edict,  he  continued,  and 
eluded  his  pursuers  for  a  time,  but  at  last  was  again 
compelled  to  flee  from  the  country.  After  the  agree- 
ment between  Hungary  and  Austria  was  consum- 
mated, in  1867,  and  general  amnesty  declared, 
Remenyi  returned  to  his  native  land. 

His  best  friend  and  comrade  was  Alexander  Petofi, 
the  soldier  poet  and  the  popular  idol  of  the  Magyar 
people,  who  not  only  helped  them  in  their  struggle 
for  liberty  with  the  pen  but  also  with  the  sword, 
and  fell  at  the  battle  of  Segevar,  in  1849.  In  order 
to  manifest  the  patriotic  gratitude  of  the  people  to 
this  great  leader,  it  was  resolved  to  erect  a  monu- 
ment to  him  at  Budapest,  and  Remenyi,  on  a 
concert  tour  throughout  Hungary,  raised  thirty 
thousand  florins  for  that  purpose,*  declaring  that 
while  he  had  no  more  than  was  absolutely  necessary 
to  live  on,  he  would  not  keep  a  dollar  for  himself 
from  the  earnings  of  these  concerts  until  he  had 
raised  a  sufficient  amount  for  the  erection  of  the 
monument.  This  he  accomplished,  and  the  Petofi 
statue  at  Budapest  to-day  is  one  of  the  grandest  tes- 
timonials to  the  unselfish  patriotism  of  Remenyi. 

I  well  remember,  on  one  occasion  about  four  years 
before  his  death,  calling  upon  him  with  a  delega- 
tion for  the  purpose  of  getting  him  to  play  at  a  char- 
itable affair.    He  received  us  in  his  bedchamber. 

*  Mme.  Remenyi  in  her  sketch  makes  this  sum  one  hundred  thousand 
florins. 


98  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

We  found  him  sitting  on  his  bed  in  picturesque 
negligS,  tuning  and  cleaning  his  favorite  Stradiva- 
rius,  which  he  hugged  very  close  to  his  breast.  He 
said  to  us  that  the  Strad  was  his  inseparable  com- 
panion and  bedfellow,  and  that  he  could  not  sleep 
peacefully  unless  he  knew  it  was  lying  close  by  him. 
Then,  taking  up  the  inanimate  piece  of  wood,  he 
suddenly,  with  his  characteristic  quickness,  played 
one  of  his  favorite  serenades  as  if  inspired  by  some 
superhuman  spirit,  and  while  we  were  standing 
around  spellbound  he  broke  into  a  fiery  czardas. 

On  another  occasion  early  in  the  Spring  of  1898, 
at  a  reception  tendered  to  him  by  the  New  York 
Hungarian  Literary  Society,  on  the  eve  of  his  de- 
parture for  the  West,  his  last  earthly  journey,  he 
said  to  me: 

"My  dear  Cukor,  this  piece  of  wood  and  its 
predecessor  were  my  truest,  my  closest  companions 
through  life.  When  I  wept,  they  sobbed,  and  when 
I  rejoiced,  they  laughed;  they  shared  my  sorrows 
and  my  joys.  I  know  and  I  feel  that  I  shall  die  in 
harness;  that  I  shall  go  on  my  last  earthly  tour  with 
these  precious  companions  of  mine,  interpreting 
the  very  depths  of  my  soul  and  giving  expression  to 
my  tenderest  and  deepest  inspirations.  Yes,  my  dear 
boy,  I  shall  die  fiddling." 

How  true  that  prophecy  was,  is  shown  by  his  un- 
timely death  at  San  Francisco  while  he  was  actually 
performing  on  his  favorite  Stradivarius. 

Morris    Cukor. 


PART  II 

DEATH  OF  REMENYI  AND  TRIBUTES  TO 
fflS  GENIUS 


The  strings  are  mute 
And  the  bow  is  stilled, 
For  gone  is  the  master-hand. 
Yet  the  chords  he  stirred 
In  the  hearts  once  thrilled 
Find  echoes  in  every  land. 

— G.  D.  K. 


I 

DEATH  OF  REMENYI 

EDOUARD  REMENYI  fell  dead  this  afternoon 
at  the  Orpheum  Theatre  in  this  city.  It  was 
Remenyi's  first  appearance  on  the  vaudeville  stage. 
As  the  artist  appeared,  and  was  greeted  with  tu- 
multuous applause,  he  bowed  his  acknowledgment 
and  seemed  immensely  pleased  at  the  reception 
given  him.  He  had  played  two  or  three  classical 
pieces,  and  had  answered  to  an  encore  with  the 
familiar  '  Old  Glory.'  Remenyi  played  as  if  in- 
spired. His  three  thousand  auditors,  as  he  ap- 
proached his  climax,  literally  rose  with  him,  leaving 
their  seats  in  then*  excitement,  completely  carried 
away  by  his  achievement.  When  the  music  ceased 
the  house  was  swept  with  a  torrent  of  bravos.  In 
response  to  another  burst  of  applause,  Remenyi 
commenced  to  play  Delibes'  *  Pizzicato.'  He  had 
just  completed  a  few  bars  of  the  difficult  fingering 
when  he  leaned  forward  as  if  to  speak  to  one  of  the 
musicians  in  the  orchestra.  He  seemed  to  pause 
a  moment,  and  then  slowly  fell  forward  on  his  face. 
One  of  the  musicians  caught  him  just  before  he 
touched  the  stage  and  prevented  him  from  rolling  ofi. 

lOI 


kpa:  •  ;  EpOUARD  REMENYI 

All  was  over.  He  was  carried  from  the  stage,  and 
physicians  worked  over  him  for  some  time,  but 
their  efforts  were  futile.  Remenyi  had  seemed  over- 
whelmed at  the  great  reception  given  him.  After 
playing  his  first  selection,  he  said  to  a  friend  behind 
the  stage:  '  Wonderful;  a  wonderful  audience;  won- 
derful; a  great  people!  ^  In  addressing  a  gather- 
ing of  friends  at  his  hotel  last  night,  Remenyi  said, 
among  other  things :  ^  I  will  play  three-quarters  of 
my  life,  I  will  play  all  my  life,  and  I  will  play  after 
I  am  dead.  My  hands  are  still  limber  and  my 
arms  are  still  strong.'  " — Despatch  from  San  Fran- 
cisco to  the  New  York  Herald,  May  i6,  1898. 


n 

REMENYI'S  DEATH  ON  THE  STAGE 

THE  science  of  music  is  the  science  of  moving 
the  mind  or  the  soul,  and  he  or  she  who  is 
gifted  to  become  master  can  enslave  those  who 
listen.  Remenyi  proved  the  truth  of  this  definition. 
It  has  been  said  that  despondency  anchors  the  soul 
to  its  sorrow  to  the  extent  that  it  deafens  the  ear. 
As  was  said,  weepingly,  by  the  exiled  Israelites  when 
they  hung  their  harps  upon  the  willows  by  the  river, 
"  How  can  we  sing  and  play  in  a  strange  land  when 
our  thoughts  are  on  Zion?"  Age  had  come  upon 
Remenyi;  opportunities  had  been  overlooked.  His 
youthful  improvidence  and  carelessness  with  regard 
to  providing  for  old  age  were  now  telling  on  him. 
The  necessities  of  home  forced  him  to  accept  exile 
from  the  high  place  on  the  concert  stage  where  he 
had  been  a  star;  but  with  indomitable  courage, 
and  defying  the  infirmities  due  to  years  and  poor 
health,  he  declared  that  in  this  new  engagement 
he  would  create  the  sensation  of  his  life.  He  would 
prove  the  truth  of  the  statement  that  the  moving 
of  the  mind  and  the  soul  was  the  mission  of  music, 
and  that  he  would  win  from  thousands  the  applause 

103 


104  EDOUARD   REMENYI 

that  would  emphasize  the  same.  He  had  come 
here  to  play  in  a  strange  land,  where  his  heart  was 
sad  and  his  "  Zion  "  seemed  destroyed.  This  prom- 
ise to  triumph  was  not  idle.  No  artist  ever  lived 
who  triumphed  more  than  he  did  upon  the  occa- 
sion in  question.  He  appeared  before  many  thou- 
sands and  was  received  with  great  enthusiasm.  Not 
one  of  those  who  applauded  him  knew  that  during 
all  the  preceding  night  and  up  to  noon  of  the  day 
on  which  he  played,  he  had  been  suffering  extreme 
pain,  and  attended  by  a  nurse  and  a  doctor.  When 
the  sun  was  well  up,  he  inquired  of  the  nurse  the 
time  and  said:  "At  eleven  o'clock  I  must  rehearse 
with  the  orchestra."  His  physician.  Dr.  Winslow 
Anderson,  forbade  him  to  leave  his  bed. 

Remenyi  smiled,  and  remarked:  "  I  stayed  in  bed 
all  night  because  that  was  the  proper  place  for  me, 
but  to-day  my  place  is  on  the  stage  with  my  violin, 
and  I  will  create  the  sensation  of  my  life." 

In  disobedience  to  the  doctor's  orders  and  de- 
spite the  beseeching  of  his  friends,  he  wrapped  him- 
self in  his  famous  old  cloak,  and,  placing  his  violin 
under  his  arm,  was  starting  for  the  Orpheum  Thea- 
tre, when  a  messenger  brought  in  a  large  bunch 
of  carnations  from  my  daughter.  These  he  ad- 
mired and  raved  over  with  his  usual  enthusiasm, 
declaring  that  he  could  not  go  without  writing  her 
a  letter.  He  immediately  sat  down  and  penned 
the  following: 


REMENYI'S  DEATH   ON   THE   STAGE         105 

"My  very  dear  Miss  Mabel:  A  million  good  thanks  (count  them) 
for  your  gracious  girlish  floral  sending.  Will  try  to  come  up  with 
my  violin  to  the  sender  and  the  beauty  of  the  flowers.  Thanks, 
and  beUeve  me  to  be  always  your  friend, 

"  Ed.  Remenyi." 

This  was  the  last  letter  he  ever  wrote.  He  pro- 
ceeded to  the  theatre,  and  when  his  place  on  the 
programme  was  reached  he  appeared  and  was 
greeted  with  an  ovation.  His  audience  knew  him, 
and  they  emphasized  their  feelings  enthusiastically; 
it  was  several  minutes  before  he  could  proceed. 
"My  dearest  friend!''  he  said,  as  he  held  up  his 
violin  and  looked  at  it  proudly.  His  first  piece  was 
rendered  possibly  better  than  he  had  ever  played  it 
before.  The  applause  that  followed  betokened 
that  his  audience  was  conscious  such  was  the 
fact.  Bowing  repeatedly,  he  proceeded  with  his 
second  piece,  the  "  Pizzicato,"  from  Delibes'  ballet 
"Sylvia."  The  applause  which  followed  was  no  less 
hearty.  Then  he  played  a  third  piece,  which  brought 
forth  new  bravos  and  more  strenuous  applause. 
After  some  hesitancy,  being  fatigued,  in  response 
to  the  overwhelming  call  he  appeared  again  and 
finally  consented  to  play  "  Old  Glory,"  which  is  so 
dear  to  every  American.  He  had  scarcely  played 
four  bars,  when  suddenly  his  frame  quivered  and 
his  bow  fell  from  his  hands.*    There  was  a  great 

*  There  is  some  confusion  as  regards  the  piece  Remenyi  was  playing 
when  he  fell.  It  is  generally  supposed  he  was  just  beginning  to  play  the 
"  Pizzicato  "  from  the  Delibes*  Suite,  when  the  bow  dropped  from  his  hand. 


io6  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

silence;  he  looked  bewildered;  suddenly  he  sank 
to  the  stage;  he  realized  that  his  work  was  over. 
His  violin  was  his  last  thought.  He  put  both  arms 
around  it,  hugging  it  as  tenderly  as  a  mother  would 
her  babe.  It  was  saved  from  being  wrecked  or 
even  injured  by  the  fall.  His  lifeless  body  was  car- 
ried to  an  adjoining  room,  from  whence  it  was 
taken  and  lovingly  cared  for  by  his  immediate 
friends  and  sincere  admirers. 

The  family  were  notified,  and  his  body  was  directed 
to  be  sent  to  his  home  in  New  York.  While  it 
was  resting  here  awaiting  shipment,  a  death- 
mask  was  taken  by  the  artist,  Val.  Schmidt. 
The  mask  was  delivered  to  F.  Marion  Wells, 
who  had  partly  prepared  a  bust  of  Remenyi  when 
the  artist  himself  died. 

Henry  J.  Kowalsky. 


m 

THE  FUNERAL  SERVICES   IN  NEW  YORK 

[The  body  of  Remenyi  arrived  in  New  York,  May  28,  and  was 
taken  by  members  of  the  Yorkville  Hungarian  Society  to  its  rooms 
to  await  the  public  funeral  on  the  next  day  at  the  Lenox  Lyceum. 
The  Remenyi  Memorial  Committee  selected  the  following  pall- 
bearers: Colonel  Robert  G.  Ingersoll,  Henry  D.  Chapman,  Jr., 
Robert  H.  Griffin,  Emerson  McMillan,  John  Philip  Sousa,  Bruno 
Oscar  Klein,  Max  Vogrich,  Isadore  Luckstone,  William  Perzel, 
Consul  General  Francis  Stockinger,  Robert  W.  Bourne,  Edward 
T.  Cornells,  Rafael  Joseffy,  Louis  Fleishman,  Alexander  Hol- 
lander, John  D.  Crimmins,  Sigmund  Neustadt,  Theodore  Jotis, 
Vilmos  Kovas,  Sylvester  A.  Murphy,  Emerson  Kleinmann,  Marcus 
Brown,  John  Kiss,  Norman  A.  Edison,  and  Morris  A.  Cukor.  The 
following  description  of  the  services  is  taken  from  "  The  New  York 
Herald  "of  May  30,  1898. 

"  The  public  funeral  of  Edouard  Remenyi,  the  violin  virtuoso, 
took  place  yesterday  morning  at  the  Lenox  Lyceiun,  Madison  Ave- 
nue and  Fifty-ninth  Street,  at  eleven  o'clock.  The  funeral 
cortege  left  the  Yorkville  Hungarian  Society's  rooms  at  10:30 
o'clock  and,  headed  by  two  hundred  members  of  that  so- 
ciety, marched  to  the  Lyceum.  There  the  funeral  party 
was  met  by  the  pallbearers,  numbering  thirty  well-known 
men  in  the  musical  world,  and  friends  of  the  dead  musician,  who 
followed  the  body  up  the  centre  aisle.  The  Musical  Mutual  Pro 
tective  Union  (Conductor,  Sam  Lehman)  played  a  funeral  march, 
composed  for  the  occasion  by  Ludomir  Thomas.  The  body,  in  a 
simple  casket,  surrounded  by  flowers,  was  laid  on  the  catafalque, 
and  the  programme,  which  consisted  of  six  numbers,  began. 
The    Lyceum    was    packed   to  overflowing   by    friends   of  the 

107 


io8  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

dead  violinist.  The  two  children  of  Remenyi,  Tibor  and  Adrienne, 
walked  in  advance  of  the  procession  up  the  aisle  and  sat  on  either 
side  of  the  casket.  Mrs.  Remenyi,  who  has  been  an  invalid  for 
years,  was  unable  to  attend.  After  the  funeral  march  had  been 
played,  the  male  chorus  of  the  Hungarian  Singing  Society,  led  by 
their  conductor.  Professor  Ringelmann,  sang  the  Hungarian  na- 
tional anthem,  *  Magyar  Dalarda.'  The  fourth  number  on  the 
programme  was  the  Hungarian  National  Dirge,  played  by  five 
Hungarian  bands.  The  solo  of  Olah  Pal,  *  Repulj  Ferskun ' 
(*  Fly,  My  Bird '),  was  exquisitely  executed,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  Mr.  Pal  played  the  piece  only  from  recollection  of 
hearing  Remenyi  play  it.  This  was  Remenyi's  own  composi- 
tion, as  well  as  his  favorite  piece,  and  the  sweet  mournful  notes 
of  Mr.  Pal's  execution  brought  tears  to  many  eyes  in  the  audience. 
The  playing  by  the  gypsy  bands  of  the  *  Lehulott  a  Vezgo  Nyarfa 
Levele '  (*  The  Summer  Leaves  Have  Fallen ')  and  the  *  Kitettek  a 
Holtestet  *  ('  They  Took  the  Coffin  Away ')  was  also  very  effec- 
tive. The  combined  Hungarian  bands  were  under  direction  of  Dr. 
Leo  Sommers."] 

Mr.  Morris  Cukor,  Hungarian  consul,  paid 
the  following  brief  but  eloquent  tribute  to  his 
late  friend : 

"  Fellow-countrymen  and  friends  of  the  departed! 
We  have  not  only  lost  an  artist,  a  musician,  we  have 
lost  a  man.  Countrymen,  we  have  lost  a  patriot  who 
swayed  men  by  his  genius  and  music.  Hungary 
cannot  alone  lay  claim  to  owning  this  great  man;  this 
country,  in  which  he  died  as  he  was  playing  its  na- 
tional hymn,  can  also  claim  him.  He  loved  America 
for  the  freedom  its  people  enjoy,  for  he  was  above 
all  a  lover  of  liberty.  As  a  musician  he  knew  no 
school,  he  knew  no  master  but  one  —  inspiration. 


DEATH-MASK  OF  EDOUARD  REMENYI 


THE  FUNERAL  SERVICES  IN  NEW  YORK    109 

Farewell,  dear  Master  !  Farewell,  dear  Remenyi! 
We  loved  you  living;  we  love  you  dead." 
Recorder  Goff  followed  Mr.  Cukor  and  said: 
"  I  am  honored  to  be  called  upon  from  out  of 
many  people  of  my  tongue  much  more  able  than  I 
to  pay  a  tribute  to  this  great  man  and  musician,  Ed- 
ouard  Remenyi.  From  the  cradle  his  life  was  full  of 
sacrifices  for  his  country  and  his  brethren.  Remenyi 
was  not  alone  a  great  musician,  but  he  was  also  a 
great  patriot.  Twelve  years  ago,  we  in  the  United 
States  were  electrified  by  the  influence  of  two  great 
evangelists.  One  was  the  orator,  one  was  the  smger. 
This  was  not  the  first  time  that  two  men  of  the  same 
kind  had  by  music  and  oratory  changed  the  lives  of 
individuals  and  the  policies  of  nations.  During  the 
Revolution  of  1848,  when  Hungary  declared  herself 
independent  of  Austria,  there  were  two  men  who 
awakened  the  country  in  enthusiasm  for  freedom  and 
liberty  —  Kossuth,  the  orator,  and  Remenyi  the 
musician.  Remenyi  died  as  he  wished  to  die.  Just 
at  this  time  when  this  country,  from  ocean  to  ocean, 
is  enthused  with  patriotism,  Remenyi  drew  his  bow 
across  his  violin,  and,  with  the  notes  of  '  The  Star 
Spangled  Banner'  dying  away  amid  thundering 
applause,  he  died,  as  he  wished  to  die,  with  his  dear 
old  instrument  hugged  tight  to  his  breast. 

"  Good-bye,  Remenyi!  The  world  is  better  for  your 
having  lived  in  it.    Peace,  peace,  to  your  memory! " 


no  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

After  the  funeral  services  the  body  was  taken  to 
Evergreen  Cemetery,  where  the  Actors'  Fund  of 
America  had  prepared  a  grave  for  it.  The  floral 
pieces,  which  were  many,  were  contributed  by  the 
Hungarian  Literary  Society,  the  Yorkville  Hungarian 
Society,  the  Hungarian  Singing  Society,  Colonel 
Robert  G.  IngersoU,  Consul  General  Stockinger,  the 
Hungarian  Sick  and  Benevolent  Society,  Rafael 
Joseffy,  and  Colonel  H.  J.  Kowalsky,of  San  Fran- 
cisco, who  sent  a  wreath  of  roses.  Many  other 
pieces  were  sent,  without  the  names  of  the  senders 
on  them,  from  various  parts  of  the  country. 


IV 

IN  MEMORIAM 

REMENYI  was  a  man  of  such  intensity  of  feel- 
ing and  enthusiasm  toward  his  adopted  coun- 
try as  well  as  his  native  land  that  the  strain  was  likely 
too  great,  but  his  friends  cannot  but  feel  that  his 
death  was  such  a  one  as  he  would  have  chosen  —  to 
fall  with  his  violin  in  his  hands  in  the  midst  of  a 
burst  of  patriotic  enthusiasm.  It  would  be  super- 
fluous to  dwell  upon  his  musical  genius  or  his  brilliant 
career,  familiar  to  all  through  his  world-wide  repu- 
tation and  his  mastery  of  that  most  difficult  of  in- 
struments. Yet  those  who  knew  Remenyi  best  often 
felt  and  said  that  great  as  were  his  attainments  as  a 
violin  virtuoso,  they  were  equalled  by  the  rare  bril- 
liancy of  his  mind ;  his  great  stores  of  knowledge,  com- 
bined with  his  astonishing  powers  of  observation  and 
his  phenomenal  memory.  Many  will  remember  his 
fluency  of  speech  and  his  discriminating  command 
even  of  foreign  tongues;  the  magnetism  which  sur- 
rounded his  unique  and  powerful  personality;  the 
fascination  of  his  conversation,  and  the  flashes  of  his 
wit.  His  humor  was  subtle  and  irresistible,  while 
his  store  of  anecdote  was  apparently  unlimited.    Six 

III 


112  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

years  of  his  life  were  spent  under  the  same  roof  with 
Victor  Hugo,  and  he  was  associated  with  such  men 
as  Liszt,  Seidl,  and  the  most  famous  musicians  and 
artists  of  this  country  as  well  as  of  the  Continent,  and 
leading  minds  in  literary  and  political  circles. 
Remenyi  was  an  unusual  connoisseur  of  art  and  its 
history,  and  his  private  collection  comprised  many 
paintings  by  the  old  masters.  He  wielded  the  pen 
with  power  and  unique  charm  and  originality.  Al- 
though Remenyi  was  essentially  a  cosmopolitan,  he 
was  an  intense  lover  of  Hungary,  its  people,  its  his- 
tory, and  its  music.  His  wife  is  a  clever  and  charming 
lady  of  the  Hungarian  nobility;  he  leaves  also  two 
children.  His  loss  as  a  composer  will  be  greatly  felt, 
as  many  of  his  own  creations  were  beautiful  and  full 
of  the  Hungarian  fire.  Chief  of  these  may  be  men- 
tioned his  "  Royal  Hymn,"  dedicated  to  "  the  King 
of  Hungary"  (not  to  the  Emperor  of  Austria)  —  a 
superb,  soul-stirring,  and  majestic  march  which  was 
to  have  been  given  to  the  public  in  Budapest  in  a 
few  years  with  Remenyi  as  leader  of  orchestra  and 
chorus. 

"  CORVINA." 


V 

ANECDOTES  OF  REMENYI 

ALEXANDER  PETOFI,  the  great  Hungarian 
poet,  the  Edgar  Poe  of  Hungary,  wrote  a  poem  in 
which  he  prayed  to  God  to  grant  him  the  boon  of 
letting  him  die  on  the  battlefield.  In  1848  his  prayer 
was  granted,  as  he  died  fighting  for  his  country's 
liberty.  Remenyi  was  a  great  admirer  of  Petofi,  and 
this  was  his  favorite  poem.  He  always  said  that  he 
would  also  pray  God  to  let  him  die  on  the  concert 
platform,  and  his  prayer  was  also  granted  —  for  he 
died  on  the  stage  in  San  Francisco 

Remenyi  was  an  intimate  friend  of  my  father's, 
and  when  I  first  met  him  in  the  lobby  of  the  Grand 
Pacific  Hotel,  Chicago,  in  1878,  and  introduced 
myself,  he  was  so  delighted  that  he  waltzed  around 
the  rotunda  with  me,  people  doubtless  thinking  him 
crazy.    He  was  a  great  enthusiast! 

Remenyi  was  also  a  great  linguist.  He  spoke  the 
languages  of  nearly  all  civilized  nations,  and  some 
Hindustani,  as  he  had  travelled  for  a  number  of  years 
in  India,  where  he  also  became  a  vegetarian.  During 
1879  we  were  much  together  in  Chicago,  and  one 
evening  I  invited  him  to  an  Italian  restaurant  for 

113 


114  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

a  dish  of  macaroni,  of  which  he  was  very  fond. 
When  he  addressed  the  proprietor  in  his  own  language 
the  latter  was  delighted  to  meet  a  countryman.  The 
same  thing  occurred  in  a  French  restaurant,  where 
he  was  taken  for  a  Frenchman;  in  a  Hungarian  place 
he  was  at  last  recognized  as  a  Hungarian. 

Remenyi  had  a  wonderful  memory.  He  knew 
over  six  hundred  musical  pieces  by  heart,  many  of 
them  classical.  One  evening  we  were  invited  to  a 
friend's  house  where,  in  Remenyi's  honor,  the  Liese- 
gang  Quartette  was  playing  some  of  Beethoven's 
and  Mozart's  sonatas.  The  host  urged  Remenyi 
to  play  the  first  violin  in  one  of  his  favorite  sonatas, 
but  he  replied,"  I  shall  not  remember  it  any  more,  I 
think,  as  I  have  not  played  it  for  twenty-five  years." 
He  took  his  violin,  however,  went  over  to  the  music- 
stand,  looked  into  the  music,  started  to  play,  and 
after  a  few  bars,  left  the  stand  and  played  it  by  heart. 

At  South  Bend  he  played  in  a  concert  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  poor,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Ladies' 
Benevolent  Society.  The  ladies  presented  him  with  a 
fine  gold  watch,  and  it  was  on  this  occasion  that  he 
first  played  his  great  "  Hymn  to  Liberty,"  with  a 
mixed  chorus  of  over  one  hundred  voices.  A  year 
previous,  when  he  was  playing  in  Washington,  D.  C, 
the  Hon.  Carl  Schurz,  then  Minister  of  the  Interior, 
presented  him  with  a  watch;  it  was  a  master- work  of 
art,  its  two  outside  plates  being  inlaid  with  twenty- 
florin  gold  pieces  of  Kossuth's  money  of  1848. 


ANECDOTES   OF  REMENYI  115 

During  this  same  Summer  I  also  arranged  a  num- 
ber of  concerts  in  the  neighboring  towns  and  cities, 
for  Remenyi.  In  Elkhart,  Indiana,  as  he  came  upon 
the  stage,  a  young  couple  sat,  directly  in  front, 
munching  peanuts.  Remenyi  stood  with  violin  in 
hand,  looking  at  the  young  people  and  smiling.  The 
audience  also  looked  and  began  to  grow  uneasy. 
At  last  he  addressed  them:  "  Ladies  and  gentle- 
men :  Permit  me  to  wait  until  these  good  people  have 
finished  their  peanut  feast."  Here  some  one  called: 
"  Put  them  out ! "  but  Remenyi  answered :  "  No,  my 
good  friend,  we  cannot  do  that ;  these  people  paid  for 
their  seats.''  By  this  time,  however,  the  poor  young 
people  shamefacedly  hid  their  peanuts  and  the 
concert  began. 

At  Niles,  Michigan,  while  he  was  playing  the  adagio 
in  the  Mendelssohn  concerto,  a  drum-and-fife  corps 
went  marching  by  the  theatre,  and  Remenyi  stopped. 
Thus  he  waited,  violin  in  hand,  until  the  noise  died 
out,  the  band  playing  a  tune  popular  at  that  time, 
"  Charlie,  come  up,  I  want  you! "  At  this  he  raised 
his  violin  to  his  chin  and,  in  imitation  of  the  flute  or 
fife,  played  the  same  tune.  There  was  a  roar  of 
laughter  and  applause,  and  after  that  he  continued 
his  concerto. 

During  one  of  Remenyi's  concert  tours  the  follow- 
ing interesting  occurrence  took  place  in  one  of  the 
coaches  in  the  train:  As  we  were  to  arrive  some- 
what late  in  the  city  where  he  was  to  play  that  night, 


ii6  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

he  took  his  instrument  from  the  box  to  tune  it.  A 
young  fellow  who  occupied  the  next  seat  saw  it  and 
said:  "  Give  us  a  tune,  old  man! " 

Remenyi  took  in  the  situation  at  once  and  answered, 
"  How  much  do  you  pay  ?  '' 

"  Well,  I  would  risk  a  quarter." 

"  Now,  that  is  not  enough.  I  tell  you  what  you 
do:  I  shall  play  for  you  when  the  train  slows  down 
near  the  station;  but,  as  all  the  other  people  will  hear 
it,  you  go  around  with  your  hat  and  collect !  " 

"  It's  a  go!  "  said  the  youngster,  and  so  it  was.  As 
Remenyi  commenced  his  playing  I  was  watching 
the  young  fellow,  and  I  must  give  him  credit  for  the 
embarrassment  noticeable  on  his  face.  He  certainly 
never  had  heard  such  strains,  and  after  Remenyi 
finished  the  boy  stood  there  highly  mortified.  Re- 
menyi smilingly  reminded  him  of  his  promise,  and 
shamefacedly  he  took  his  hat  and  went  around  to 
the  passengers.  There  were  quite  a  number  of  people 
in  the  car  who  knew  Remenyi,  and  they  laughingly 
threw  some  coin  or  a  dollar-bill  into  the  hat.  When 
the  youngster  handed  the  hat  to  Remenyi  he  told 
me  to  count  the  money,  and  I  found  four  dollars  and 
fifty  cents.  He  requested  me  to  add  enough  from 
the  funds  I  was  carrying  for  him  to  make  it  ten 
dollars,  then  handed  the  money  to  the  young  man, 
with  the  remark: 

"  There,  my  boy,  are  ten  dollars.  Take  them  to 
your  town  and  hand  them  to  the  mayor  with  my  best 


ANECDOTES   OF   REMENYI  117 

regards  and  tell  him  that  Edouard  Remenyi,  the  Hun- 
garian fiddler,  sends  them  to  the  poor  of  his  town.  " 

The  boy  took  the  money  reluctantly,  amid  the 
applause  of  the  people  in  the  car. 

Remenyi  stayed  in  my  house  until  the  Fall,  when 
he  left  for  his  concert  tour.  In  1880  I  removed  to 
Denver,  Colorado,  where  I  again  invited  him  to  visit 
me,  his  answer  being  that  he  would  come  on  the  con- 
dition that  I  arrange  some  concerts  for  him.  I  gave 
my  promise  and  sent  an  agent  all  through  the  State 
to  arrange  the  dates,  etc.  When  he  arrived  in  Den- 
ver, Remenyi  was  received  with  a  brass  band  at  the 
depot  and  with  a  banquet  in  the  evening  at  the 
Windsor  Hotel,  to  which  all  the  editors  of  the  city 
and  some  oJ0&cials  and  friends  had  been  invited.  His 
concert  tour  through  the  State  was  one  great  success! 

At  Fort  Collins  the  hotel  porter,  a  big  burly 
negro,  approached  Remenyi  when  he  was  sitting  on 
the  veranda  and  the  following  colloquy  ensued: 

Porter,    "  What  do  you  do  in  the  show  ?  " 

Remenyi,    "  I  am  the  endman." 

P.  "I  thought  so.  Have  you  got  some  influence 
with  the  boss  of  the  show  ?  " 

R,    "  I  think  I  have  a  little." 

P.  "I  thought  so.  Could  you  get  some  tickets 
for  me  and  my  old  woman  to  the  show?  " 

R.    "  Maybe  I  could." 

P.    "  I  thought  so.    Try  hard ! '' 

P.     "  I  will  try  mighty  hard." 


ii8  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

P.     "I  thought  SO.'' 

I  gave  the  man  two  passes,  and  as  we  started  to  the 
Opera  House  I  gave  him  the  violin  to  carry. 

"  Who  plays  this  fiddle  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  The  endman,"  I  said. 

^' I  thought  so!" 

After  the  concert,  he  was  in  the  lobby  waiting  for 
us  with  a  very  long  face.  Remenyi  handed  him  the 
violin,  and  we  walked  on,  he  mumbling  constantly. 
At  last  he  turned  to  Remenyi  and  said : 

"  You  bet  you  fooled  me! " 

Remenyi,    "I  thought  so! '' 

In  a  mining-town  in  Colorado  some  national  melo- 
dies nearly  cost  him  his  life.  The  audience  was  mostly 
composed  of  miners.  When  the  pianist  appeared 
the  talk  and  noise  went  on  all  the  same,  and  all 
through  the  other  numbers,  so  that  when  Remenyi 
came  on  there  was  a  perfect  babel  of  noises.  He 
labored  under  some  disadvantage  in  his  personal 
appearance,  being  a  short  stout  man  with  a  com- 
plete tonsure,  looking  the  priest  for  all  the  world. 
"  Hello,  old  man! "  was  the  cry;  "  give  us  your  bless- 
ing first!"  He  stood  there,  violin  in  hand,  staring 
at  the  people  for  a  few  minutes,  and,  as  the  noise  did 
not  cease,  he  raised  the  violin  to  his  chin  and  began 
to  brush  over  the  strings  as  if  playing.  The  people 
strained  their  ears  to  listen,  until  perfect  quiet  reigned. 
Then,  with  his  magic  tones  and  strains,  he  charmed 
and  silenced  them  to  such  a  degree  that  you  could 


EDOUARD  REMENYI 
(  Taken  in  Denver,  Colorado  ) 


ANECDOTES   OF  REMENYI  119 

have  heard  a  pin  drop.  And  he  played  Mendels- 
sohn's concerto.  The  applause  was  frantic.  Un- 
fortunately, however,  he  played  his  famous  American 
medley  as  an  encore.  After  the  finish  there  was  a 
howling  mob,  standing  on  chairs  and  using  them  to 
demolish  things.  After  repeating  it  three  times,  as 
the  noise  did  not  cease,  the  manager  came  running 
on  to  the  stage  to  beg  Remenyi  to  play  it  once  again, 
as  they  were  breaking  his  furniture.  Seeing  the  ex- 
hausted condition  of  the  old  man,  however,  I  ordered 
the  carriage  to  the  stage  door  and  as  soon  as  he  reap- 
peared in  the  green  room,  packed  him  into  it  and 
carried  him  off  to  the  hotel.  I  heard  afterward  that 
the  miners  stormed  the  stage  and  looked  for  him. 

Remenyi  was  both  generous  and  honest.  In  Long- 
mont,  Colorado,  a  poor  school-teacher  brought  a 
violin  to  the  hotel  and  asked  him  to  buy  it.  Remenyi 
was  an  expert  in  violins,  and  at  the  first  glance  saw 
it  was  an  Amati  and  asked  the  price.  The  man 
thought  about  twenty-five  dollars  would  not  be  too 
much.  Remenyi  said,  "  No,  the  violin  is  worth  two 
hundred  dollars  to  me,"  and  paid  that  sum,  to  the 
man's  great  surprise.  Remen3d  had  at  one  time 
about  forty  valuable  old  violins.  What  became  of 
them?    When  he  died  there  were  only  two  left. 

The  great  charm  and  impressiveness  of  Remenyi's 
playing  were  wonderfully  demonstrated  in  Toledo 
during  the  festivals  of  the  United  German  Singing 
Societies  of  America.    He  was  one  of  the  soloists, 


I20  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

and  as  one  of  his  encores  he  played  Schubert's  "  Sere- 
nade." There  were  about  twenty  thousand  people 
in  the  big  temporary  hall,  and  toward  the  close,  when 
the  song  dies  away  gradually,  the  mass  of  people  be- 
came charmed  to  such  a  breathless  quietude  that 
you  actually  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop. 

Remenyi  supported  the  talented  and  tried  to  sup- 
press the  untalented.  In  every  city  where  he  played 
there  were  always  numbers  of  people  coming  to  him 
to  have  him  hear  them  play  or  sing.  Sometimes  he 
was  harsh  in  his  judgment,  sometimes  sarcastic,  but 
oftener  gentle.  A  lady  with  a  small  voice,  who  was 
desirous  of  going  on  the  stage,  asked  his  judgment. 
He  answered:  "  Madame,  if  you  study  well,  you  will 
make  a  good  parlor  singer."  To  many  a  talented 
violinist  he  gave  letters  of  recommendation  to  his  old 
friend  Joachim,  which  no  doubt  were  of  high  value 
to  the  bearer. 

Alexander  Rixa. 


VI 

FURTHER  ANECDOTES   OF    REMENYI 

AN  old  comrade  of  the  Hungarian  violinist  wrote 
to  ''  The  New  York  Sun  "  in  1878: 
"  Edward  Remenyi,  the  coming  genius  of  harmony, 
is  a  Hungarian  by  birth  and  education.  He  en- 
listed as  a  soldier  (honved)  in  1848,  and  became  an 
aide-de-camp  to  General  Gorgey  when  the  later  was 
appointed  commander-in-chief  of  the  hero-army  of 
Hungary.  The  writer  was  aide-de-camp  also,  and 
ranked  Remenyi.  We  all  loved  and  admired  him 
so  much  that  we  used  to  drive  him  away  from  the 
fields  of  battle  in  order  to  save  the  world  a  master  in 
music.  Incidentally  I  will  mention  that  on  the 
eleventh  day  of  July,  when  one  of  the  bloodiest 
Austro-Russian  and  Hungarian  battles  was  fought 
Gorgey  forbade  Remenyi  to  follow  us.  He  did  follow, 
nevertheless,  and  appeared  in  the  white  heat  of  the 
conflict.  Gorgey,  on  noticing  him,  ordered  two 
hussars  to  conduct  him  from  the  field  under  arrest.'* 

Henri  Baracs,  a  Hungarian  journalist,  relates 
the  following  anecdote  of  Remenyi  and  General 
Gorgey: 

121 


122  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

"  Remenyi,  at  the  time  of  the  Hungarian  revolution, 
was  but  a  young  fellow,  yet  had  already  won  national 
fame  as  a  violinist.  He  was  a  great  favorite  with  the 
Hungarian  commander-in-chief,  General  Gorgey, 
as  well  as  with  his  officers  and  men,  and  his  playing 
was  inspiring  to  the  soldiers.  He  was  with  Gorgey's 
staff  on  that  memorable  August  13,  1849,  when  the 
General  at  Vilagos  surrendered  the  Hungarian  army 
to  the  Russians.  Gorgey  wore  on  his  watch-chain  a 
locket  given  him  by  his  wife,  which  he  valued  highest 
among  all  his  earthly  possessions,  it  was  said.  But 
after  the  surrender  the  General  took  this  locket  from 
his  chain  and  handed  it  to  Remenyi  with  the  words : 
'  Keep  it,  for  my  wife  will  never  forgive  me  for  what 
I  have  done  to-day.' '' 

TiBOR  Remenyi,  only  son  of  the  violinist,  con- 
tributes the  following  incidents,  some  of  which  relate 
to  the  revolutionary  experiences  of  his  father. 

"  In  the  Revolution  of  1848  my  father  was  eighteen 
years  of  age  and  was  serving  General  Gorgey.  On 
the  day  of  a  battle  he  put  on  a  uniform  resembling 
the  GeneraPs,  so  that  the  enemy  might  shoot  him 
rather  than  the  latter.  After  that,  as  Gorgey  liked 
him  very  much,  he  had  my  father  locked  up  on  the 
day  of  the  next  battle  so  that  he  might  not  risk  his 
young  life.  But  somehow  he  escaped  from  the  place 
where  he  was  confined,  and  was  the  first  on  the  field. 

"  When  he  went  back  the  second  time  to  Hungary 


FURTHER  ANECDOTES  OF  REMENYI         123 

in  1 89 1  (the  first  time  was  in  i860),  he  was  greeted 
with  a  reception  very  much  Hke  the  one  Admiral 
Dewey  had  on  his  return  to  America.  I  was  with 
him  then.  Soldiers  lined  the  streets  from  the  depot 
to  the  hotel,  and  my  father  had  to  make  speeches. 
I  saw  an  old  man  at  a  way-station  shake  him  by  the 
hand  and  say  that  now  he  had  seen  Remenyi,  he 
could  die  happy! 

"  Few  people  know  that  he  came  to  this  country  for 
the  first  time  in  the  steerage,  in  1850,  with  Kossuth. 
He  possessed  very  little,  and  to  get  enough  to  eat 
had  to  play  for  ten  cents,  at  Niblo's  Garden,  I  think. 
He  once  showed  me  where  the  old  place  was  in  Four- 
teenth Street. 

'*  When  Remenyi  was  in  Melbourne,  Australia,  in 
1884,  among  the  singers  who  wanted  to  be  heard  by 
him  was  a  Mrs.  Armstrong.  She  had  no  sooner  sung 
the  first  notes  of  Schubert's  "Serenade"  than  he 
was  convinced  of  her  possibilities  and  urged  her  to  go 
to  Europe  for  study.  Six  years  later,  when  Remen)ri 
returned  to  Europe  from  a  tour  of  the  world,  he  often 
spoke  of  Mrs.  Armstrong,  and  wondered  what  had 
become  of  her  and  her  beautiful  voice.  One  night 
at  Covent  Garden,  in  London,  where  '  Romeo  and 
Juliet '  was  given,  as  soon  as  Juliet  came  upon 
the  stage,  Remenyi  left  his  box,  in  a  great  state  of 
excitement,  and  went  behind  the  scenes.  When  he 
returned,  the  cause  of  his  agitation  was  discovered: 
*  That  was  Mrs.  Armstrong,'  he  exclaimed." 


124  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Remenyi  often  told  with  a  merry  chuckle  the  story 
of  his  first  appearance  in  Kensington  Gardens  to 
play  before  the  Queen.  Prince  Albert  Edward  was 
there,  then  but  a  child  in  kilts,  and  he  introduced 
himself  to  the  young  virtuoso  by  jumping  over  his 
shoulders  and  demanding  a  game  of  leap-frog. 

Remenyi  was  taken  by  surprise  by  the  unexpected 
onslaught,  and  before  a  game  could  be  arranged 
the  royal  mother  interposed  by  a  command  that  the 
prince  apologize  for  the  liberty  he  had  taken,  which 
he  did  eventually  most  humbly.  Then  the  artist 
offered  a  back,  and  His  Highness  went  over  with  a 
gleeful  bound  and  rolled  his  dumpling  body  on  the 
sod  in  high  delight. 

Remenyi  and  the  artists  of  his  troupe  visited  the 
White  House,  December  7,  1878,  upon  the  invitation 
of  Mrs.  Hayes,  and  were  entertained  by  the  Presi- 
dent and  his  wife.  The  musical  programme  included 
a  Chopin  nocturne  and  mazurka  and  a  serenade  by 
Dulcken,  performed  by  Remenyi;  Sullivan's  "  Lost 
Chord,"  sung  by  Miss  Ames;  Barry's  song,  "  Saved 
from  the  Storm,"  sung  by  Mr.  Courtney;  "  The 
Village  Blacksmith,"  sung  by  Sig.  Campobello;  and 
the  Boccherini  minuet,  played  by  Mr.  Dulcken. 

The  New  York  correspondent  of  "  The  Boston 
Evening  Telegraph  "  writes  the  following,  under  date 
of  January  20,  1878. 


FURTHER  ANECDOTES   OF  REMENYI  125 

"  In  the  large  hall  of  the  building  on  Leonard 
Street,  occupied  by  the  Italian  School  of  the  Chil- 
dren's Aid  Society,  there  was  an  amusing  illustra- 
tion, a  few  evenings  ago,  of  the  fondness  of  the  young 
Italians  for  music,  and  of  its  influence  upon  them. 
The  locality  is  that  formerly  known  as  the  Five 
Points,  and  about  four  hundred  and  fifty  children 
of  ragpickers,  pedlers,  and  laborers  assembled  for 
their  Christmas  festival,  which  had  been  postponed. 
If  it  had  been  generally  known  that  Remenyi  had 
kindly  offered  to  show  these  children  of  the  land  of 
song  what  could  be  done  on  the  violin,  the  audience 
would  have  been  uncomfortably  large.  As  it  was, 
the  hall  was  crowded,  and  after  the  little  ones  had 
sung  a  hymn,  and  a  band,  composed  of  the  older 
scholars,  had  performed  some  selections  from  Verdi 
in  a  style  which  showed  a  decided  inclination  for 
fortissimo  effects,  the  Hungarian  violinist  began  to 
exercise  the  magic  of  his  art.  The  four  hundred 
little  faces  brightened  as  the  children  listened  to  the 
'Elegie'  of  Ernst  and  a  Chopin  nocturne.  M. 
Remenyi  said  that  he  would  first  try  the  effect  of 
serious  music  upon  these  little  waifs  of  humanity, 
and  it  was  curious  to  note  the  interest  which  they 
showed  in  the  tender  strains  he  drew  from  his  violin. 
As  he  played,  his  juvenile  audience  grew  more  and 
more  absorbed  in  their  attention,  and  when  he  finished 
they  greeted  him  with  a  storm  of  applause.  But 
when  he  gave  them  a  lively  air  with  variations  and  a 


126  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Caprice  of  Paganini's,  introducing  some  of  the  sur- 
prising staccato  and  pianissimo  effects  of  which  he 
is  master,  the  young  ItaHans  were  irrepressible  in 
their  demonstrations  of  delight.  They  could  not  be 
kept  from  rising  to  their  feet  and  interrupting  the 
performance  with  shouts  and  laughter  and  clapping 
of  hands.  The  Hungarian  violinist  certainly  never 
had  a  more  enthusiastic  and  demonstrative  audience 
of  admirers  than  these  little  Italians  of  the  Five 
Points  of  New  York." 

REMENYl'S  CONCERT  ON  THE  PYRAMID 

The  "  Leipziger  Illustrirte  Zeitung,"  of  March  15, 
1873,  published  the  following  account  of  Remenyi^s 
playing  upon  the  Cheops  pyramid: 

"  On  the  second  of  last  January  a  number  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen  travelled  from  Cairo  to  Gizeh. 
Among  them  were  Edouard  Remenyi,  his  friend  and 
companion,  Ferdinand  Plotenyi,  General  Klapka, 
and  other  notables. 

"After  their  arrival  at  the  pyramid  of  Cheops,  they 
were  guided  by  eager  fellahs  four  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  upwards.  The  most  beautiful  weather  favored 
the  excursion.  Not  a  breath  of  air  stirred  the  atmos- 
phere, and  pure  and  cloudless  glistened  the  deep 
blue  sky.  The  clearest  light  shimmered  over  the 
endless  expanse  of  desert.  The  tones  of  music  pro- 
duced a  powerful  effect  in  the  awesome  stillness  which 
exists  at  this  altitude.    Remenyi  played  a  Prelude 


FURTHER  ANECDOTES    OF  REMENYI  127 

of  Chopin,  the  Hungarian  Hymn  by  Vorosmarty, 
known  as  *  Szozat/  a  Turkish  air  of  his  own  com- 
position, the  Hungarian  song  'Repulj  Ferskun  ' 
(*  Fly,  Swallow  '),  the  Hungarian  *  Hymn  of  Prayer ' 
by  Kolsey,  and  with  Plotenyi  a  duo  by  Spohr.  Full 
and  pure  rang  out  the  tones  of  the  violin  from  the 
summit  of  the  pyramid — now  rejoicing,  now  wailing 
and  trembling— to  those  listening  reverently  below. 
Upon  their  descent  an  elaborate  breakfast  awaited 
them  in  the  vice-regal  pavilion  at  the  foot  of  the 
pyramid;  but  all  present  voiced  the  conviction  that 
the  memory  of  the  hours  they  had  just  passed 
through  could  never  be  effaced." 

REMENYI    AND    THE    PALM 

Remenyi's  admiration  for  the  palm  reached  almost 
the  dignity  of  a  cult.  In  one  of  his  photographs  he 
has  seated  himself  beneath  the  curving  sweep  of  its 
graceful  branches,  and  in  the  bottom  of  the  soft- 
lined  case  of  his  dearest  Stradivarius  he  always 
carried  a  leaf  or  two  from  the  palm.  These  he  was 
wont  to  take  up  or  point  out  as  he  tenderly  would  lift 
or  replace  his  instrument.  While  in  the  South,  a 
year  or  so  before  his  death,  he  said  he  became  so 
enthusiastic  over  the  palm  that  he  was  impelled  to 
write  a  composition  —  the  mysterious  whispering  of 
the  wind  in  its  distant  branches  bringing  a  peculiar 
music  to  his  acute  ear,  which  he  translated  in  a 
weird  and  beautiful  manner  with  his  violin.    The 


128  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

finished  result  was  a  superb  and  varied  "  Habanera," 
marked  by  a  rhythm  and  a  haunting  minor  refrain 
which,  once  heard,  could  never  be  forgotten.  It  was  in 
strange  contrast  to  his  brilliant  compositions  of  Hun- 
garian fire,  his  classic  work,  or  the  stately  "  Trium- 
phal March,"  composed  by  him  for  the  occasion  of 
the  unveiling  of  the  statue  of  his  beloved  Mathias 
Corvinus,  King  of  Hungary,  wherein  his  grandest 
conceptions  and  deepest  enthusiasm  find  an  impres- 
sive scope.  The  figure  of  Remenyi  as  he  played 
these  compositions  of  his  own  for  a  few  friends 
is  inseparably  associated  with  his  music.  Remenyi 
was  impatient  of  any  break  in  the  stillness  of  a  room 
in  which  he  was  playing,  and  often  he  would  wander 
back  and  forth,  his  instrument  in  hand,  his  music 
growing  fainter  and  fainter  as  he  moved  farther 
away,  and  swelling  again  as  he  returned,  perhaps, 
to  lean  against  a  table  or  a  chair,  playing  with  eyes 
all  but  closed.  At  such  moments  his  smile  and  the 
play  of  the  expressions  that  would  pass  in  rapid  suc- 
cession over  his  features  were  fascinating  to  follow. 
Sometimes  at  the  end  of  a  piece  he  would  let  his 
bow  drop  noiselessly  across  his  knees,  but  more  fre- 
quently, if  his  execution  had  been  brilliant  he  would 
close  with  the  sweep  of  his  bow  so  familiar  to  all 
his  friends.  In  one  of  Remenyi's  personal  notes  his 
love  of  the  palm  appears  in  his  manner  of  signing 
himself: 


FURTHER  ANECDOTES  OF  REMENYI         129 

"  Thousand  million  greetings  and  thanks  to  my  good  and 
genial  friend,  from  her  devoted  Palm-tree  fiddler,  Edouard 
Remenyi." 


"  My  acquaintance  with  Remenyi,"  writes  Prof.  J. 
D.  Batchelder,  "  was  but  the  merest  meeting;  yet  the 
interview  has  always  seemed  to  me  significant,  for 
among  the  few  words  I  ever  heard  him  speak  he 
tried  to  embody  his  life  philosophy.  Together  with 
a  friend  I  called  on  a  lady  then  singing  with  con- 
siderable success  in  his  company.  She  had  been  an 
old  school-chum,  and  we  were  too  frivolously  happy 
in  our  reminiscent  chattering  to  appreciate  the  honor 
when  Remenyi  entered  and  elaborately  begged  for 
an  introduction. 

"  *  I  am  always  eager  to  meet  young  girls,'  said  the 
distinguished  musician;  *am  eager  to  see  every- 
thing young  and  free  and  (excuse  me)  beautiful. 
All  beauty  is  a  spree  to  me.  It  is  so  I  live  my  life. 
When  I  see  a  beautiful  tree,  to  me  it  is  a  spree. 
When  a  bird  sings  sweetly,  to  me  it  is  a  spree.  If  a 
ship  sails  well  it  is  a  spree  to  me.  And  all  life  and 
all  beauty  and,  above  all,  all  young  things  —  they 
are  to  me  sprees,  yes,  sprees.  It  is  thus  I  keep  life 
happy  when  I  am  getting  old  myself,  for  life  could 
get  very,  very  dreary,  my  dear  young  ladies,  if  one 
did  not  search  out  the  sprees.'  " 


PART  III 

SKETCHES  AND  LETTERS 


PART  III 


SKETCHES  AND  LETTERS 


I 
MUSIC 


OUR  music  is  of  the  very  highest  excellence. 
Music  is,  we  know,  the  loftiest  expression  of 
human  feeling.  It  is  the  very  essence  of  genuinely 
felt  idealism;  it  utters  the  unutterable;  it  lifts  us  up 
into  the  regions  of  contemplation  and  pure  serenity. 
It  makes  our  bosoms  heave  with  satisfaction,  with 
sadness,  with  joy,  with  high  resolve,  with  deep  hu- 
man sympathy.  Its  beauty  consists  in  its  absolute 
intangibility,  it  escapes  our  average  everyday  analy- 
sis, though  its  rules  are  as  strict  as  the  grammar  of 
a  language,  within  which  the  poet,  the  writer,  the 
speaker,  have  immense  latitude  and  freedom  for  the 
utterance  or  the  inspiration  which  fills  them,  but  to 
the  observance  of  which  they  are  strictly  bound. 
And  yet  how  wide  is  the  scope  of  language!  A 
Dante,  a  Shakespeare,  a  Demosthenes,  a  Cicero,  a 
Burke,  a  Hugo,  can  each  give  free  utterance  to  the 
ideal  thoughts  within  him,  in  language  as  rich  and 

^33 


134  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

varied  as  his  individual  genius,  but  they  are  all  the 
while  restricted  by  the  unalterable  laws  which  govern 
the  forms  and  beauties  of  language. 

Just  so,  music,  the  most  ideal  of  arts,  stands  higher 
than  literature  or  any  other  art.  Its  three  elements 
—  Rhythm,  Melody,  and  Harmony  —  are  a  holy 
trinity,  the  mystery  of  which  we  need  no  Saint 
Augustin  to  solve,  and  constitute  the  power  to  stir 
up  the  feelings  of  the  innermost  spirit  to  a  degree 
that  no  other  art  can  approach.  Why  this  is  I  can- 
not answer,  neither  can  anyone  define  with  absolute 
certainty  what  is  love,  or  sleep,  or  taste.  But  we  feel 
its  power,  just  as  we  see  with  our  eyes, —  no,  not  with 
our  eyes,  properly  speaking,  but  the  outer  vibration 
reverberates  in  us  through  those  little  spiritual  win- 
dows, and  so  music  (which  is  vibration,  too,)  reaches 
us  through  our  hearing.  But  how?  We  know  not. 
As  Shakespeare  says,  there  are  many  things  in 
heaven  and  earth  not  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy. 
We  need  not  trouble  ourselves  with  the  primordial 
causes  of  music  or  any  other  indefinable  metaphysical 
or  psychological  matter.  We  hear  music,  but  how  the 
physical  proceeding  is  effected  and  how  the  physical 
causes  which  put  our  tympana  into  vibrational  mo- 
tion reach  our  spirit  does  not  matter.  We  hear,  and 
are  elated. 


n 

POPULAR  MUSIC 

IN  crossing  the  Pacific  from  San  Francisco  to 
Sydney,  a  highly  cultured  literary  man  re- 
marked to  me  that  it  was  very  condescending  on  my 
part  to  play,  from  time  to  time,  popular  melodies  at 
my  concerts.  I  underline  the  word  condescending, 
as  it  is  the  pivotal  column  of  what  I  have  to  say. 
The  gentleman  was  not  a  musician,  and  my  answer 
was  somewhat  as  follows: 

**My  dear  friend,  I  am,  as  you  say,  very  often 
asked  to  play,  at  my  concerts,  some  popular  melody 
famiHar  to  all,  and  the  request  is  generally  accom- 
panied by  excuses  for  trespassing  on  the  threshold 
of  Art's  sacred  temple  by  expressing  such  a  wish. 
In  the  first  place,  when  I  play  popular  melodies,  I 
choose  only  such  as  have  intrinsic  musical  value, 
but  should  people  request  me  to  play  some  trashy 
piece,  even  if  popular,  which  sometimes  happens, 
I  simply  refuse  to  comply;  but  I  never  refuse  to 
play  a  familiar  popular  melody,  if  good.  Let  me 
further  explain  myself:  The  domain  of  Art  is  in- 
finite. It  may  have  a  beginning,  but  most  certainly 
has  no  end.    It  is  infinite,  and  the  best  an  artist 

135 


136  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

can  do  is  to  be  meek.  In  that  vast  domain  of  musical 
literature  are,  of  course,  included  the  national  airs 
and  dancing  tunes  of  all  countries  and  nations, 
civilized,  semi-civilized,  and  barbarous.  The  richest 
nations  in  this  respect  are  the  Spanish,  Scotch,  Irish, 
English,  German,  Scandinavian,  and  Hungarian. 
The  popular  melodies  and  dance  tunes  of  these  na- 
tions are  marvellously  abundant.  Some  of  the  com- 
posers of  these  remarkable  melodies  are  known,  but 
by  far  the  greater  part  of  them  are  devoid  of  known 
parentage.  But  what  of  that?  They  belong  to  the 
nation.  We  may  not  know  who  planted  a  flower; 
the  seed  fell  into  the  ground  and  lo!  we  behold  a 
beautiful  object  with  its  exquisite  fragrance.  We 
view  with  delight  the  splendid  oak.  Who  planted 
it?  It  does  not  matter.  We  see  a  graceful  and 
majestic  palm.  Where  does  it  come  from  ?  We  do 
not  know.  And  so  it  is  mostly  with  the  popular 
national  melodies  and  dance  tunes;  they  grow,  so  to 
speak,  and  we  musicians  rejoice  in  them.  We  hear 
and  discriminate  their  beauties.  The  people  who 
know  them  almost  as  well  as  their  mother-tongue, 
and  love  them  intuitively,  fail  to  give  them  (because 
of  their  familiarity)  the  importance  they  so  richly 
deserve,  constituting,  as  they  really  do,  one  of  the 
brightest  ornaments  and  most  faithful  expressions 
of  their  nationality  and  characteristic  individuality. 
But,  as  discriminating  power  is  not  given  to  every- 
body, all  these  airs  are  generally  dumped  into  the 


POPULAR  MUSIC  137 

same  basket,  good  and  bad  together.  Now,  as  there 
is  bad,  good,  and  magnificent  literature;  bad,  good, 
and  magnificent  painting,  and  so  forth,  in  every 
branch  of  art,  so  there  are  mediocre  and  absolutely 
bad  popular  melodies;  and  then,  again,  there  are 
good,  fine,  grand,  and  even  sublime  ones. 

"  I  repeat,  the  composers,  especially  of  the  old  ones 
are  unknown.  They  were  probably  composed  in 
a  moment  of  inspiration.  Let  me  name  at  random 
a  few  of  the  most  perfect  gems  to  be  found  among 
the  Scotch  national  airs,  known  to  almost  everybody. 
'  Auld  Lang  Syne' —  a  dear  old  song,  without  which 
friendly  gatherings  among  EngHsh-speaking  people 
all  over  the  globe  would  lose  much  of  their  charm. 
How  frank  and  straightforward  is  its  flowing  melody! 
^Ye  Banks  and  Braes' — how  it  fascinates  us  with 
its  exquisitely  smooth  and  lyric  strains!  '  Auld 
Robin  Grey,'  a  melody  worthy  of  Beethoven; 
'Scots,  Wha  Hae,'  with  its  rugged  and  solemn  an- 
tique grandeur;  *  Charlie  is  my  Darling,'  with  its 
spirit-stirring  joUity;  *  The  Campbells  are  Com- 
ing,' with  its  savage  clannish  majesty;  'John 
Anderson,  my  Jo,'  evidently  an  old  Gregorian  mel- 
ody, simple,  gloomy,  and  grand.  I  could  name 
many  others,  perfect  ones  too,  Scotch,  Irish,  and 
English,  and  of  other  nations.  All  of  these  melodies 
I  have  named  have  absolute,  intrinsic,  musical  value; 
they  are  perfect  gems, —  in  reahty,  tuneful  poems. 
'The  Last  Rose  of  Summer,'  with  its  melancholy, 


138  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

fragrant  sweetness;  'Silent,  O  Moyle/  with  its 
inconsolable  sadness;  'The  Harp  that  Once  through 
Tara's  Halls/  which  tells  so  much  of  bygone  glory; 
and  others,  and  again  others,  are  all  magnificent 
melodic  pearls  which  Erin  can  wear,  with  pride,  in 
her  diadem. 

"  Then,  again,  those  innumerable  gay,  half-merry, 
half-sad,  sturdy  and  jolly  tunes  in  Papa  BulPs  song- 
halls!  What  beautiful  strains  we  possess  in  his 
glees,  madrigals,  merry  songs,  and  jolly,  jolly  horn- 
pipes! Don't  laugh  —  those  hornpipe  dancing  tunes 
are  very  fine,  a  thousand  times  finer  and  better 
than  thousands  of  pale-faced  uncharacteristic  com- 
positions of  our  own  day.  What  wealth  you  possess 
in  those  melodic  mines!  Let  me  name  the  English 
national  anthem,  'God  Save  the  Queen'  (or  King). 
Has  not  its  strain  the  simple  simplicity  (excuse  this 
pleonasm),  the  grandeur  of  a  Doric  temple?  They 
say  it  was  composed  by  a  Dr.  Bull.  Maybe  ;  but 
nobody  knows  exactly  who  was  the  composer  of 
this  air;  yet  how  admirably  it  expresses  English 
loyalty  (permit  me  to  express  it  thus);  it  adapts 
itself  wonderfully  to  John  BuUism.  You  may 
wonder  at  my  mentioning  so  many  national  tunes. 
I  omitted  to  mention  the  terribly  popular  'Home, 
Sweet  Home.'  I  did  it  on  purpose;  which  is,  that 
it  is  not  a  national  melody  at  all.  It  is  an  importa- 
tion, and  not  a  happy  one  either.  It  is  not  English, 
not  American,  though  the  words  were  written  by 


POPULAR  MUSIC  139 

Payne,  an  American.  The  music  to  Payne's  words 
was  adapted  by  Sir  Henry  Bishop,  but  never  com- 
posed by  him.  It  is  an  old,  very  mediocre  SiciHan 
air,  and  was  first  sung,  I  believe,  in  1839  or  there- 
abouts, in  an  opera  called  'The  Maid  of  Milan,' 
in  London.  The  prima  donna  who  sang  it  first 
must  have  sung  it  very  well,  and  must  have  been 
very  beautiful,  to  have  been  able  to  nationalize  into 
English  this  by  no  means  brilliant  Sicilian  melodic 
importation.  But,  of  course,  the  words  helped  to 
make  the  melody  go  down,  just  as  the  good  sauce 
does  the  bad  fish;  and,  as  I  said  before,  people  are 
not  always  happily  discriminating  in  art  matters; 
so  it  remains,  nevertheless,  a  very  mediocre  musical 
utterance.  I  hope  you  will  not  kill  me  for  daring  to 
destroy  its  undeserved  halo.  You  can  be  sure  I 
never  play  it,  but  what  of  that?  You  can  boast  of 
a  host  of  other  popular  melodies;  you  do  not  need 
this  one.  Give  me  those  unbiassed  magnificent 
English,  Scotch,  and  Irish  musical  gems,  and  I 
am  their  fervent  admirer.  What  is  the  *  Mar- 
seillaise'*  but  a  God-inspired  melodic  flash,  begotten 
in  a  moment  of  exalted  patriotic  frenzy?  It  could 
never  have  been  composed  and  conceived  in  a 
normal  time  —  never.  Rouget  de  ITsle,  its  com- 
poser, was  a  very  middling  musician  and  a  tolerably 
bad  poet;  still,  he  wrote  both  the  music  and  words  of 
this  heroic  strain.  About  thirty-two  years  after,  in 
a  time  of  political  calm,  he  composed  another  French 


140  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

anthem  —  fortunately  for  his  fame  but  Httle  known, 
for  this  anthem  is  just  as  bad  as  the  *  Marseillaise '  is 
absolutely  sublime  and  grand.  And  what  shall  I 
say  about  our  own  Hungarian  march,  the  march  of 
marches  —  the  ^Racokzy  March'  ?  The  composer  of 
this  is  also  unknown,  and  hence  I  suppose  it  was 
expressly  composed  for  the  Hungarians  by  an  arch- 
angel, in  a  heavenly  leisure  hour,  and  sent  down  by 
some  mysterious  agency  in  order  that  they  might 
have  a  celestial  grand  martial  strain  for  any  emer- 
gency; and,  I  assure  you,  it  fits  admirably  to  the 
Hungarian  idea  of  fervent  patriotism.  The  arch- 
angel composer  in  the  heavenly  spheres  ought  to 
have  had  the  great  gold  medal  for  having  bestowed 
upon  the  Hungarians  such  a  heroic  strain.  ( I  won- 
der if  they  wear  gold  medals  there,  where  King 
David  seems  to  be  the  musical  director.)  " 

Now  for  parenthesis.  Hardly  had  I  finished  my 
eulogy  upon  our  own  Hungarian  national  march, 
'^The  March  of  Racokzy,"  when  my  gentleman 
friend  surprised  me  by  asking  if  the  **  Carnival  of 
Venice"  is  really  a  popular  tune,  and  if  it  had  any 
musical  value.  My  reply  was:  "Most  certainly, 
the  tune  itself  is  a  popular  melody,  and  a  good  one 
too;  but  what  on  earth  it  has  got  to  do  with  Venice 
is  more  than  I  can  tell  you.  First,  the  melody  is 
about  two  hundred  years  old ;  then  it  is  not  Venetian 
at  all,  but  a  Neapolitan  canzonetta,  '  O  Cara  Man- 
nina  Mia.'    Its  melody  was,  I  believe,  varied  by 


POPULAR  MUSIC  141 

Locatelli,  a  great  Italian  violin  virtuoso,  before 
Paganini,  who  also  wrote  variations  upon  it. 
So  did  Ernst  and  many  others;  and  you  may  amuse 
yourself,  my  friend,  making  two  billion  variations, 
if  you  like, —  there  is  no  limit  to  its  possibilities. 
But  will  the  variations  be  good,  that  is  the  ques- 
tion. If  good,  good;  if  bad,  bad.  But  the  melody 
is  certainly  a  good  one  and  adapts  itself  admirably 
to  variations,  having  only  two  chords  in  it,  which 
two  chords  alternate  with  imperturbable  regularity 
on  the  tonica  and  the  dominante.  I  myself  play 
it  very  often,  but  I  must  tell  you  at  once  that  I  never 
yet  wrote  down  a  single  one  of  my  variations.  I 
always  improvise  them  before  the  audience,  never 
playing  them  twice  alike,  and  before  commencing 
to  play,  generally  commend  myself  to  the  good  will 
and  charity  of  some  musical  guardian  angel  not  to 
leave  me  in  the  lurch." 

After  this  digression,  let  me  resume  my  remarks 
upon  popular  melodies.  Great  masters  also  treated 
and  developed  them  in  their  immortal  works. 
What  is  Chopin's  music  but  the  very  quintessence 
of  his  own  Pohsh  national  feeling,  in  which  his 
whole  grand  musical  soul  tells  us  so  eloquently  of 
the  sufferings  of  his  dearly  beloved  Poland?  And 
what  is  Schubert's  music  but  the  Olympian  and 
Elysian  expression  of  the  sublime  folk-song  ?  Schu- 
mann, in  his  imperishable  compositions,  is  but  the 


142  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

highest  expression  of  his  aphoristic,  philosophic,  and 
lyric  German  heart  and  soul.  Weber's  immortal 
"Freischiitz"  is  but  a  gigantic  national  Teutonic 
outpouring  of  his  musically  lyric  soul.  One  of 
Mendelssohn's  very  best  inspirations  is  a  veritable 
Volkslied  in  his  "Lieder  ohne  Worte.''  Haydn 
harmonized  a  great  many  Scotch  melodies ;  and  is 
he  not  the  composer  of  the  wonderful  Austrian 
national  hymn?  Had  he  composed  nothing  but 
this  melody,  he  would  have  a  claim  to  immortality. 

I  could  quote  many  more  examples  among  the 
great  tone-masters  to  corroborate  my  statements. 

Take  French  musical  literature:  Are  Auber,  Her- 
old,  Mehul,  Boieldieu,  and  Gounod  in  his  "Faust," 
anything  but  transcendental  musical  expressions 
of  their  nationality?  Or  among  the  Italians,  Ca- 
rissimi,  Monteverde,  Leo,  Rossini,  Bellini,  Donizetti, 
Verdi,  and  others, —  are  they  not  the  national 
expression  of  their  Latin  race?  And  Glinka, — 
the  Russian  composer,  is  he  not  the  vox  populi  of 
his  own  nation?  And  so  on  ad  infinitum.  But 
permit  me  to  name  one  more  —  Beethoven,  the 
Shakespeare  of  music!  Did  not  he,  this  musical 
Jupiter,  treat  and  develop  Russian  popular  airs  and 
dance  music  in  his  wonderful  string  quartettes 
(opus  59)?  And  what  are,  after  all,  the  themes  in 
his  great  symphonies  but  the  heaven-born  folk-songs 
of  his  deeply  feeling  big  heart  ?  Did  n't  he  say  him- 
self that  he  felt  only  with  the  people  and  through 


POPULAR  MUSIC  143 

the  people,  and  did  he  not  give  the  highest,  the  very 
highest,  artistic  expression  possible  to  those  feelings, 
just  as  Michel  Angelo  did  in  his  imperishable  works? 
What  name  shall  we  give  the  andante  movement  in 
the  Seventh  Symphony,  and  to  the  Choral  Fantasia, 
written  for  piano,  chorus,  and  orchestra?  What  is 
the  last  allegro  in  the  Fifth  Symphony  but  a  popular 
heavenly  outburst  of  the  most  exalted  triumph, —  a 
theme  as  simple  as  it  is  grand, —  in  fact,  which  could 
not  be  simpler?  All  is  expressed  and  magnificently 
built  up  upon  the  two  most  elementary  chords  — 
the  tonica  and  dominante.  And  what  is  the  last 
melody  in  the  Finale  of  the  Ninth  Symphony,  this 
crowning  glory  in  musical  literature,  but,  as  I  said 
before,  the  heaven-bom  folk-songs  of  his  deep, 
grand  soul  ?  It  is  nothing  else,  and  that  is  enough. 
But  how  does  the  great  master  treat  and  develop 
his  folk-song,  that  is  the  question.  The  artist 
must  know  how  to  set  a  jewel;  he  must  know  how 
to  enhance  its  beauties  a  thousand-fold.  In  one 
word,  he  must  be  an  artist,  and  must  know  his  art 
thoroughly.  Yes,  in  the  treatment  and  artistic 
development  of  a  subject  lies  the  secret.  Forma  dat 
esse  ret.  As  an  instance,  let  me  mention  your  own 
Shakespeare,  who,  to  me,  is  a  greater  wonder  than 
even  the  Himalaya  Mountains.  He,  in  "  Othello  " 
lays  down  the  nucleus  of  his  powerful  drama  in  these 
seemingly  insignificant  few  lines: 

Senator.    Adieu,  brave  Moor!  use  Desdemona  well. 


144  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Brahantio,  Look  to  her,  Moor,  if  thou  hast  eyes  to  see. 
She  has  deceived  her  father,  and  may  thee. 

Othello.    My  life  upon  her  faith!    Honest  lago, 
My  Desdemona  must  I  leave  to  thee. 

This  is  all.  This  is  his  folk-song.  But  how  does 
the  great  giant  poet  treat  and  develop  this  seemingly 
simple  thesis?  It  is  very  simple.  He  does  it  with 
such  a  master-spirit  that  it  baffles  description.  It 
can  be  read,  heard,  felt,  and  admired,  but  hardly 
described.  A  complete  physiological  and  psycholog- 
ical analysis  would  be  required  to  give  an  adequate 
idea  of  his  treatment  of  this  simple  theme.  Vol- 
umes could  be  written  on  this  one  drama  of  the 
immortal  bard,  and  have  been.  Let  me  continue. 
When  one  artist,  who  knows  what  he  is  about, 
takes  up  a  worthy  popular  national  melody,  he 
must  show  his  appreciation  of  the  gem  he  intends 
to  set,  by  doing  it  conscientiously  and  artistically. 
If  such  melody  is  purely  national,  he  must  now  lose 
sight  of  its  redundant  national  fragrance,  and  at  the 
same  time  must  be  able  not  to  lose  touch  with  the 
people.  It  must  not  be  a  mixture  composition.  It 
must  not  be  as  if  I  said:  ^^Voulez-vous,  my  dear  sir, 
mir  un  biochiero  di  aqua  gebuc  ?  "  You  will  admit 
it  would  be  much  more  sensible  to  say,  simply, 
"  My  dear  sir,  will  you  give  me  a  glass  of  water  ?  " 

Before  finishing  I  must  yet  say  a  few  things  to 
complete  the  argument.  People  very  often  excuse 
these  wonderful  melodies,  and  say  to  me,   "You 


POPULAR  MUSIC  145 

know,  it  is  only  a  simple  air."  Yes,  I  know;  but 
you  may  as  well  excuse  a  tiny  flower  on  the  ground 
of  its  being  a  flower,  or  a  beautiful  woman  on  the 
ground  of  her  being  a  woman.  And  further,  you 
must  know  that  Schubert,  Mozart,  and  Beethoven 
never  wrote  any  but  simple  melodies  when  they  wrote 
melodies  at  all.  You  must  never  lose  sight  of  this 
simple  statement,  and  keep  this  eternal  truth  con- 
tinually in  mind. 

Again,  some  people  insult  these  melodies  by  calling 
them  *' pretty."  This  word  is  really  an  outrage, 
applied  to  these  gems.  A  ballad  or  any  other  song 
without  special  or  intrinsic  value  or  individual 
character,  written  without  any  idea  whatsoever, — 
in  fact,  a  compilation  and  not  a  composition, —  those 
ballads  written  by  thousands  of  pale-faced  or  rosy- 
cheeked  fashionable  composers,  may  be  called 
"pretty,"  I  do  not  care,  but  not  these  imperishable 
melodies!  No,  never!  They  are  grand,  and  only 
this  word  well  expresses  their  value  —  grand  in  their 
simplicity.  Therefore,  for  heaven's  sake,  my  dear 
friend,  do  not  excuse  these  simple  national  melodies. 
They  need  no  excuses  —  all  they  need  is  admiration, 
which  they  so  well  deserve.  Take  my  word  for  it, 
they  are  a  much  greater  and  imperishable  treasure 
to  a  nation  than  even  its  national  wealth.  Banks 
can,  and  do,  and  will,  fail,  but  these  transcendent 
melodies  will  never  fail,  never  die. 

Remember  what  it  was  that  remained  of  the 


146  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Greeks  and  Romans  and  other  fallen  nations.  Was 
it  not  their  art,  literature,  and  philosophy?  These 
treasures  still  exist,  whereas  all  the  rest  is  gone,  gone, 
gone! 

Forewarned,  forearmed;  and,  my  friend,  you 
are  forewarned  by  me  against  using  such  an  inappro- 
priate expression  as  ^^condescending  to  play  such 
tunes. "  On  the  contrary,  I  honor  myself  by  playing 
these  melodies  when  I  choose  to  do  so,  and  by  ascend- 
ing with  them  ad  astra  as  high  as  I  can!  Dixi  et 
salvavi  animam  meant. 


m 

HINDU  MUSIC 

WHILE  on  the  subject  of  music,  it  may  interest 
the  music-loving  reader,  and  also  show  my 
impartiality,  to  read  an  article  which  I  wrote  for  the 
Calcutta  Daily  Englishman,  It  was  about  Hindu 
music,  and  I  wrote  two  or  three  times  on  this  most 
interesting  subject.  This  will  suffice  to  give  an 
insight  into  what  I  had  to  say,  and  I  am  quite  will- 
ing to  acknowledge  the  beautiful  whenever  good 
fortune  brings  me  in  contact  with  it,  and  however 
strange  it  may  seem  to  my  previous  European 
notions.  I  give  the  extract  in  full  from  the  Daily 
Englishman: 

"We  have  received  from  M.  Remenyi,  the  emi- 
nent Hungarian  violinist,  an  account  of  a  visit  to  the 
Bengal  Academy  of  Music,  which  will  be  read  with 
special  interest  by  all  who  have  given  any  atten- 
tion to  what  Sir  William  Ivens  calls  *the  Musical 
Modes  of  the  Hindus.'  It  is  surprising  how  little 
has  been  added  to  our  knowledge  of  Gaudhama- 
Veda  since  Captain  Willard  published  his  treatise 
on  the  music  of  Hindustan,  in  the  viceroyalty  of 
Lord    W.  Bentmck.    Doubtless   much   has   been 

147 


148  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

written  on  Hindu  music  in  the  interval.  The 
Maharajah  Lorindro  Mohun  Tagore  has  placed  the 
literature  of  the  subject  before  the  world  in  a  series 
of  works  of  permanent  value,  and  has  devoted  his 
time  and  fortune  to  the  establishment  of  the  conser- 
vatory with  which  his  name  will  always  be  identified. 
But  the  alleged  beauty  and  value  of  the  art  are 
about  as  far  removed  as  ever  from  a  general  recogni- 
tion among  Europeans.  It  is  known  that  the  system 
of  notation  introduced  into  European  music  by 
Guido  d'Arezzo  early  in  the  eleventh  century  came 
originally  from  India,  and  is  upwards  of  two  thou- 
sand years  old;  that  we  have  here  preserved  in  a 
living  state  some  of  the  archaic  musical  forms  of 
Greece;  and  that  there  was  an  Augustan  age  of 
Hindu  music  prior  to  the  time  of  the  Mohammedan 
dynasties.  But  when  it  comes  to  actual  appreciation 
of  famous  Hindu  melodies,  the  European  student 
is  at  a  loss. 

"All  the  sympathy  and  appreciation  which  have 
been  bestowed  upon  the  art  of  men  like  Bosanquet, 
Carl  Engel,  Dr.  Bumell,  and  Isaac  Rice,  the  pianist, 
do  not  help  us  here.  To  be  honest,  Hindu  music 
is  not  music  to  the  ordinary  European  ear,  and 
we  utterly  fail  to  enter  into  the  enjoyment  of  the 
Hindu  audience,  even  while  we  can  speak  with 
deference  of  the  antiquity  of  the  art  and  the  elabora- 
tion of  the  system  upon  which  it  is  founded.  This, 
we  believe,  is  the  popular  view,  fairly  stated,  and  it  is 


HINDU  MUSIC  149 

now  possible  to  see  how  far  this  uncultured  opinion 
is  wide  of  the  mark.  We  have  long  waited  for  the 
critical  opinion  of  a  skilled  musician,  who  was  also  a 
musical  authority,  and  that  opinion  we  now  have 
received.  But  we  must  leave  M.  Remenyi  to  de- 
scribe in  his  own  words  what  he  saw  and  heard  at 
the  Conservatory  of  Music.     M.  Remenyi  says: 

**'To  begin  with,  it  must  be  understood  that  I 
have  no  idea  of  gushing  in  what  I  have  to  say,  al- 
though I  shall  have  to  write  in  terms  of  admiration. 
To  deal  fully  with  Hindu  music  would  require 
volumes,  but  I  must  here  content  myself  with  giving 
my  unbiassed  opinion,  as  a  musician  and  student  of 
music,  on  the  subject,  as  far  as  it  is  yet  known  to  me. 
And  I  must,  in  the  first  place,  bear  my  humble 
testimony  to  the  value  of  the  work  that  is  being 
done  by  the  Rajah  Lorindro  Mohun  Tagore,  the 
resuscitator  of  a  nearly  lost  art, —  for  art  it  un- 
doubtedly is,  and  a  very  fine  art,  too.  This  I  say 
to  those  who  may  think  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
Hindu  music.  Arriving  in  India,  and  eagerly  ask- 
ing for  such  music,  I  constantly  heard  of  only  two 
melodies,  "Taza-be-Taza,"  and  "Hili-mili-Pania." 
I  say  at  once  that,  hearing  them,  I  did  not  go  into 
raptures  about  their  beauty,  nor  believe  in  their  very 
questionable  —  musically  questionable  —  Eastern 
origin.  Both  of  these  melodies  have  a  smack  of 
Belati  (European)  flavor  and  savor.  Besides,  each 
person  who  sang  them  to  me,  sang  them  entirely 


ISO  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

different,  and  so  I  had  to  give  up  all  hope  of  ever 
correctly  knowing  those  two  Hindu  tunes.  At  first, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  this  was  tout  le  bagage  musicale 
that  I  was  to  gather  during  my  short  stay  in  India. 
But,  fortunately  for  me,  I  received  a  few  days  ago,  a 
pressing  invitation  from  the  Rajah  Lorindro  to  pay 
him  a  visit  and  hear  some  real  ancient  Hindu  music. 
This  was  indeed  welcome!  I  did  not  even  inquire 
if  he  spoke  English, — which  he  does  well, —  knowing 
that  if  he  was  a  real  musician  we  should  understand 
each  other,  with  pen  in  hand  and  some  music-paper 
at  our  disposal.  And  I  did  use  music-paper  and 
pen,  but  only  to  illustrate  musically,  and,  of  course, 
entirely  after  our  own  European  musical  system,  the 
highly  interesting  conversation  I  had  with  the 
learned  Rajah.  But  the  music!  There  could  be 
no  doubt  about  that!  Music  it  was,  and  delightful 
it  was  to  listen  to  all  those  melodies,  entirely  new  to 
me  —  a  melodic  and  rhythmical  revelation.  Arriv- 
ing at  the  Rajah^s  residence,  I  saw,  besides  a  multi- 
tude of  servants  and  others,  a  native  sentry  with 
musket  on  his  shoulder,  and  clad  entirely  in  the  uni- 
form of  a  British  soldier.  This  did  not  savor  much 
of  musical  learning.  I  was  announced  to  the  Rajah, 
and  in  a  few  moments  was  shown  into  the  interior. 
Reaching  the  first  floor,  I  immediately  saw  a  gentle- 
man in  a  small  room,  sitting  at  a  writing-table.  It 
was  the  Rajah,  and  he  greeted  me  in  the  most  friendly 
manner.    He  is  the  very  personification  of  inborn 


HINDU  MUSIC  151 

politeness  and  affability,  and  as  I  soon  saw  was  a 
scholar,  and  thoroughly  in  earnest  about  Hindu 
music. 

"  *  We  musicians  have  but  one  language  all  over  the 
world,  and  that  the  language  of  intervals  —  musical 
sounds  which  bear  such  and  such  proportion  to  each 
other;  and  that  is  the  reason  why  musicians  —  I 
mean  theorists  —  understand  each  other,  irrespec- 
tive of  spoken  language. 

"  *  During  the  conversation,  a  fine-looking  young 
man  stepped  in,  and  the  Rajah  introduced  him  as  his 
son,  Pramod  Kumar  Tagore.  On  my  right  was  a 
small  room,  where  a  few  native  gentlemen  sat  on  the 
floor,  examining  musical  instruments.  Behind  the 
Rajah  was  a  big  glass  case  full  of  Japanese  instru- 
ments, a  present  from  the  Mikado.  To  my  left,  on 
an  antique  bench  was  seated  a  very  intelligent  look- 
ing middle-aged  man,  in  strictly  Hindu  attire. 
This  gentleman,  who  was  introduced  to  me  as  Babu 
Kali  Prasanna  Banerjie  (Master  of  Music),  looked 
more  like  a  Hungarian  —  that  is,  a  countryman  of 
mine  —  than  a  Bengali.  He  spoke  Enghsh  fluently, 
as  did  also  the  son  of  the  Rajah.  The  Rajah 
played  upon  a  kind  of  hybrid  Hindu  setar.  Kali 
Prasanna  Banerjie  had  a  genuine  Hindu  setar  in 
his  hands,  as  long  in  shape  as  the  one  which  the 
goddess  of  Hindu  music  and  learning,  Saraswati,  is 
represented  as  holding.  It  seemed  to  me,  also,  that 
this  legendary  Hindu  goddess  spread  her  protecting 


152  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

wings  over  the  heads  of  the  two  musicians  while 
executing  their  rhapsody.  I  was  simply  charmed, 
and  gave  free  expression  to  my  pleasure.  I  listened 
with  the  greatest  pleasure  and  attention  to  this 
genuine  music,  —  music  untouched  by  foreign  in- 
fluence,—  and  everything  became  perfectly  clear  and 
intelligible  to  me. 

"  *  So  true  it  is  in  art,  that  the  highest  is  always  the 
simplest.  Goethe  is  right  in  saying,  "Poor  art  no 
one  can  understand;  good  true  art,  and  all  can  under- 
stand well." 

"  '  The  duet  went  on  for  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  and  I  could  discern  with  perfect  clearness  all  the 
intervals  which  we  find  in  our  music,  and  also  in 
the  old  Grecian  gamuts,  the  Lydian,  Phrygian, 
Doric,  and  others.  There  was  also  the  plaintive 
special  scale,  with  its  augmented  fourth,  ascending 
and  descending. 

"  *  The  melodies  sounded  to  me  as  clear  and  as 
intelligible  as  any  of  our  own  Hungarian  melodies, 
known  to  me  since  childhood. 

"  *  The  Rajah  played  the  principal  part,  and  he 
played  like  a  consummate  master  of  his  art.  Babu 
Kali  Prasanna  Banerjie  accompanied  him  like  a 
superb  virtuoso,  and  I  guessed  at  once  that  he  was 
improvising  in  his  accompaniments  the  most  intri- 
cate counterpoint  —  yes,  counterpoint,  and  good 
counterpoint  it  was.  There  was  no  mistake  about 
that.    And  thus  to  my  utter  amazement  I  discovered 


HINDU  MUSIC  153 

during  their  fine  performance  that  Hindu  music  is 
founded  absolutely  on  the  same  basis  as  our  own 
European  music,  which,  by  the  way,  came  also  from 
the  East.  It  is  founded  on  the  tonica,  subdomi- 
nante,  and  dominante  chords.  I  noted  down  the 
most  striking  features  of  the  music  and  my  notes 
were  found  perfectly  correct  by  the  Rajah.  After  this 
an  incident  of  a  very  interesting  character  occurred. 
I  wanted  to  express  musically  my  gratitude  to 
the  Rajah  for  his  kindness,  and  I  begged  his 
son  to  dictate  to  me,  at  random,  four  intervals. 
He  did  not  catch  my  idea  at  first,  but  a  word  or 
two  put  us  right,  and  he  dictated  to  me  four  inter- 
vals just  as  they  occurred  to  him.  Upon  those 
four  notes  I  composed  and  wrote  down  a  strictly 
correct  Hungarian  melody,  which  the  Rajah  and  his 
son  read  and  sang  perfectly.  Now,  this  was  not 
only  an  acknowledgment,  on  my  part,  of  the  kind 
reception  they  had  accorded  me,  but  also  —  how 
shall  I  say  it? — a  kind  of  musical  trap.  In  short, 
I  wanted  to  see  if  the  Rajah  or  his  son  could  music- 
ally communicate  this  improvised  Hungarian  mel- 
ody to  Babu  Kali  Prasanna  Banerjie,  and  to  my 
delight  and  surprise  the  Rajah  copied  my  five- 
line  written  melody,  with  all  its  rhythmical  inter- 
punctuation,  on  one  line^  with  a  kind  of  abracadabra 
hieroglyphics,  and  then  Babu  Kali  played  my 
Hungarian  air  at  once,  and  correctly.  My  musical 
trap  did  not  succeed. 


154  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

"  *Now,  to  sum  up  all  this,  what  do  I  mean  to 
affirm  ?  I  would  affirm,  first,  that  our  music  comes 
from  the  East;  secondly,  that  the  Hindu  music  in 
its  present  state  is  just  where  our  music  was  in  the 
fifteenth  century,  when  the  genius  of  a  Palestrina 
flashed  in  and  put  order  into  the  Gregorian  Modes 
which  had  come  from  the  East.  Palestrina  is  the 
veritable  founder  of  our  own  European  music,  which 
was  developed  up  to  the  eighteenth  century  with  such 
wonderful  progression,  until  at  last  the  seeds  which 
Palestrina  planted  have  grown  into  a  luxuriant  forest. 
To  drop  the  metaphor:  We  find  music  represented 
in  the  eighteenth  century  by  the  genius  of  a  Sebastian 
Bach;  and  a  little  later  we  come  to  Beethoven,  our 
musical  Jupiter.  Now,  I  arrive  at  this  simple  con- 
clusion. There  is,  when  all  is  said,  only  an  interval 
of  some  four  centuries  between  Palestrina  and 
Beethoven,  a  short  period  for  such  a  development; 
and  may  not,  then,  a  Hindu  Palestrina  come  to  the 
rescue  of  the  ancient  art  of  his  country?  From 
the  simple  Gregorian  chant  we  pass  to  the  wonderful 
polyphonic  beauties  of  Beethoven's  symphonies,  and 
may  not  the  beautiful  melodies  of  India  be  the  be- 
ginning of  a  new  art  departure?  The  good  seed  is 
here,  the  good  soil  is  here,  and  all  it  wants  is  the 
care  of  the  cultivator.  The  good  Rajah  Lorindro 
is  the  prophet  of  this,  for  us,  new  art.  I  hope  with 
all  my  heart  that  followers  will  flock  to  his  banner 


HINDU  MUSIC  155 

and  take  care  not  to  undervalue  the  importance  of 
his  highly  interesting  musical  movement. 

"*A  last  word:  Some  people,  not  musicians,  of 
course,  said  to  me  that  all  this  music  is  only  an  in- 
vention of  recent  date.  Now,  I  vouch  for  it  with 
all  my  musical  soul  and  all  my  modest  knowledge, 
that  this  is  not  so. 

" '  But  what  if  it  were  ?  Everything  in  art  has  had 
a  humble  beginning,  and  if  you  would  show  me 
that  this  music  was  the  creation  of  yesterday,  it 
would  not  affect  my  opinion  of  its  genuine  intrinsic 
value.  Criticism  of  this  kind  would  cut  at  the 
foundation  of  all  art.  If  this  spirit  had  been 
allowed  to  tyrannize  over  men,  there  would  have 
been  an  end  of  all  art,  and  the  world  would  never 
have  known  a  Beethoven,  a  Gluck,  a  Mozart,  a 
Haydn,  a  Bach,  a  Chopin. 

"  *  Has  musical  genius  been  given  only  to  one  or 
other  of  the  nations?  No!  Genius  is  a  law  to 
itself,  and  is  confined  to  no  nation  or  country.  In 
conclusion,  I  have  only  to  express  my  sincere  thanks 
to  the  Rajah  for  the  musical  revelation  with  which 
he  delighted  me,  and  which  I  am  sure  will  yet  delight 
many  a  musical  scholar  in  critical  Europe.' '' 


IV 

AMERICAN    VERSUS    EUROPEAN 
CIVILIZATION* 

I  DO  not  know  if  my  letters  are  intensely  interesting, 
as  you  kindly  state  in  your  letter,  but  I  know 
that  I  have  a  "  bone  to  pick  "  with  you ; —  this  is  what 
I  call  gratitude  with  a  vengeance.  You  dare  to  write 
in  your  letter:  "  We  can  only  hope  that  by  the  time 
we  return  again  to  earth,  say  fifteen  thousand  years 
hence,  the  American  people  may  have  caught  up 
with  the  people  of  Europe  of  three  hundred  years 
ago."  Now,  how  do  you  dare  to  speak  thusly  and  so 
disparagingly  about  the  Americans  ?  Don't  you  know 
yet  that  I  am  more  of  a  Yankee,  and  in  certain  cases 
even  a  "  Sah"  of  the  South,  than  are  all  the  Americans 
put  together?  I  have  enough  American  patriotism 
in  me  to  counterbalance  easily  the  rest  of  the  seventy- 
four  million  Americans  put  together,  and  my  patriot- 
ism is  of  a  reasoning  and  a  logical  sort,  barring  the 
sentimental  part  of  it  altogether.  First,  I  like 
Beethoven,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Shakespeare  be- 
cause they  are  not  only  immensely  broad,  pyramidal 
and  Himalayan  in  their  own  (chosen  art)  expression, 

*  This  and  the  following  extracts  are  mainly  from  Remenyi's   corre- 
spondence.— Edr, 

156 


CIVILIZATION  157 

but  because  they  surmise  even  more  than  their 
dramatic,  sculptural,  and  musical  expressions  seem 
to  contain.  So  this  America,  and  the  Americans  in 
America,  is  a  nation  of  all  possibilities,  which  we  are 
not  any  more  in  the  Old  Country.  We  are  passe; 
we  are  obliged  to  put  on  poudre  and  rouge  to  keep 
up  a  seeming  youth  which  is  not  ours  any  more;  we 
live  in  the  present  upon  the  glory  of  our  not  always 
glorious  past,  whereas,  with  you  Americans,  you 
constituted  yourselves  into  a  commonwealth  and 
into  a  nation  under  much  more  soothing,  civilizing 
possibilities.  Your  fathers  are  the  Washingtons, 
the  Tom  Paines,  the  Jeffersons,  the  Hamiltons, 
the  Jacksons,  the  Minute  Men,  the  profoundly  pa- 
triotic Patrick  Henrys,  not  to  mention  other  con- 
stellations, whereas  our  civilization  emerged  from 
absolute  darkness.  Europe  was  base  enough  to  let 
the  Pericles  most  glorious  period  submerge  into  the 
most  base  Byzantinism,  and  waddled  in  fanatic  jerks 
and  jumps  through  useless  crusades  and  most  gloomy 
and  guttery  ignorance  into  the  Dark  Ages,  from 
which  dark  ages  a  Dante  was  the  first  beacon-light 
which  followed  the  brilliant  torch  of  the  highly 
civilized  Moor.  Then  science  was  forced  down  the 
throat  of  ignorant  Christian  Europe  by  the  Moslem 
Moor.  The  sublimely  sublime  works  of  art  of  the 
Moors  were  then  destroyed  piecemeal  by  the  Chris- 
tians in  Spain,  who  also  destroyed  their  unique  and 
fine  architectural  monuments  and  annihilated  their 


158  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

scientific  academies.  Poor,  stupid,  superannuated, 
degenerated  Spain  has  to  thank  the  Moors  for  the 
few  high  schools,  academies,  and  universities  which 
she  still  can  boast.  How  every  bad  action  comes 
back  with  a  vengeance  to  the  originator !  Every  edu- 
cated and  unprejudiced  Spaniard  must  feel  the  con- 
sequences of  the  unheard-of  crimes  of  the  twelfth, 
thirteenth,  and  fourteenth  centuries,  and  Spain's 
idiotic  colonial  policy. 

We  emerged  from  such  civilization,  whereas  your 
civilization  emerged  (fortunately  for  you)  from  a 
very  magnificent  school  of  philosophy,  the  philosophy 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  which,  because  of  prej- 
udices, could  not  be  realized  in  Europe,  whereas 
you  made  the  most  of  it  here. 

Now  to  return,  after  this  long  awful  yarn,  why 
have  la"  bone  to  pick ''  with  you?  It  is  because 
you  dare  to  put  fifteen  thousand  years  to  arrive  and 
to  catch  up  with  the  European  peoples  where  they 
were  three  hundred  years  ago!    Not  much! 

P.  S.  I  don't  know  if  I  did  forget  in  my  to-day's 
letter,  to  say  that  afterwards  Christian  Europe  came 
down  to  the  most  brutish  ignorance.  The  Moslem 
Moors  were  obliged  to  force  their  fine  science  and 
civilization  with  the  Moorish  spear,  and  this  happened 
in  the  twelfth,  thirteenth,  and  fourteenth  centuries, 
and  the  Christian  civilized  people,  especially  the  Span- 
iards, murdered  them  or  drove  them  away.  How 
piteously  a  proud,  stupidly  proud,  nation  pays  the 


CIVILIZATION  159 

penalty  of  its  overbearingness  when  it  was  seemingly 
in  good  Itick!  And  how  idiotically  do  the  Spaniards 
behave  to  the  very  end  of  the  chapter  in  their  Cuban 
policy!  A  chicken  ought  to  have  more  sense  than 
they  show.    But  pride  always  precedes  the  fall. 


ITALY  AND  THE  GOLDEN  ERA  OF  THE 
RENAISSANCE 

WITH  the  impressions  I  received  in  my  travel- 
lings during  these  three  weeks,  the  thoughts 
I  gathered  in  my  poor  brain  during  this  time,  and 
the  lovely,  lovely,  lovely  country  I  went  through  in 
New  York,  Pennsylvania,  and  Ohio, —  I  say  with 
those  impressions  I  could  fill  volumes  to  the  utter 
discomfiture  of  humanity  in  general  and  you  in  par- 
ticular! But  I  will  do  no  such  thing.  I  will  give 
simply  my  loving  duty  of  weekly  instalment,  and  try 
to  be  as  simple  and  unostentatious  as  possible. 
Some  benighted  epochs,  eras,  in  certain  countries, 
almost  have  epidemics  in  begetting  geniuses.  Take, 
for  an  illustration,  the  Italian  blessed  epidemic  which 
began  in  the  thirteenth  century  with  Dante,  Cimabue, 
and  Fra  Andrea;  and  what  an  outcome  from  these 
three  workers!  They  worked  almost  day  and  night, 
and  through  their  work  what  a  Milky  Way  of  artistical 
blessing  they  left  to  poor  ungrateful  humanity! 

Just  think  of  it!  The  whole  Italian  peninsula, 
not  mentioning  its  innumerable  museums  and 
churches  replete  with  masterpieces,  is  full  of  artistic 

i6o 


RENAISSANCE  i6i 

inspiration.  Each  separate  town  is  an  architectural 
revelation  of  its  own.  Pisa  does  not  resemble  Venice. 
Venice  does  not  resemble  Rome,  Rome  does  not 
look  like  Florence,  neither  do  Genoa,  Urbina, 
Ferrara,  Pesaro,  Sienna,  Rimini,  Verona,  Modena, 
Cremona,  Bergamo,  Palermo,  Brescia,  or  Naples 
look  like  any  other  city.  In  fact,  the  smallest  village 
has  its  very  own  physiognomy,  and  is  filled,  privately 
and  publicly,  with  artistic  revelations.  In  fact,  from 
Trentino  in  Tyrol  down  almost  to  Africa  (Girgenti) 
everything  is  a  "  thing  of  beauty  and  a  joy  forever." 
And  this  is  not  all !  Not  only  have  the  Italians  shown 
their  own  country  what  real,  undefiled,  honestly  felt 
and  begotten  Art  is  and  means,  but,  look  all  over 
the  world,  all  the  museums  are  full  of  their  works! 

If  the  present  degenerated  Italian  population  were 
nothing  but  cut-throats,  thieves,  murderers,  and  so 
forth,  I  would  absolve  them  from  their  crimes  as  be- 
ing the  lineal  descendants  of  Romans,  Etrurians, 
Greeks,  and  Tuscans.  I  almost  regret  that  Rem- 
brandt, Diirer,  Gerard  Douw,  Franz  Hals,  Van  Dyck, 
and  Rubens  do  not  belong  to  the  Italians. 

Now  isn't  it  almost  blinding  for  a  man  of  keen 
appreciation  to  behold  such  a  pageantry  of  geniuses? 
For  a  man  who  feels  their  conception,  their  art,  a 
thousand  lives  would  not  suffice  to  appreciate  and 
to  know  them  fully.  If  I  were  a  young  man,  my 
highest  and  keenest  delight  would  be  to  travel  with 
one  like  you  and  to  explain  and  to  be  his  cicerone, 


i62  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

through  the  glorious  peninsula;  but  such  halcyon 
days  are  out  of  question ! 

Now,  to  touch  a  touchy  question,  I  wonder  what 
such  a  man  as  Ghiberti  or  Michael  Angelo  or  the  di- 
vine architects  who  conceived  the  Doge  Palace,  the 
St.  Marcus  Church,  the  Cathedrals  of  Milan  and 
Certosa,  ....  what  would  those  divine  architects 
say  to  a  five  or  ten  million  dollar  monstrous  mon- 
strosity like  some  of  the  palaces  in  New  York  ?  They 
would  say  that  the  architects  had  plenty  of  money, 
splendid  materials,  magnificent  engineering  and 
machines,  fine  conception  of  almost  heavenly  com- 
fort, but  devilishly  poor  architectural  ideas,  and  the 
more's  the  pity.  Such  monstrous  landmarks  are 
going  to  stay  almost  for  ages. 


VI 

ARCHITECTURE  PAST  AND  PRESENT 

THE  Riverside  Drive  in  New  York  is  glorious 
and  a  most  comfortable  sight;  but,  pardon  me, 
I  like  better  the  dirtiest  unobserved  corner  of  Venice 
in  its  full  decay,  than  all  the  boulevards  here  in  the 
new  country  and  over  there  in  the  old  country. 
There  is  more  genuine  artistic  inspiration  and 
heavenly  dirt  (pardon  the  expression)  in  a  few  feet 
of  a  calle  (street)  in  Venice,  than  there  is  in  a  hun- 
dred miles  of  the  boulevards  of  New  York,  Berlin, 
or  Vienna,  in  the  Esbekieh  in  Cairo,  in  the  Nevsky 
Prospect  in  St.  Petersburg,  or  even  in  Paris. 

I  cannot  help  myself,  but  in  all  those  fine  and  broad 
thoroughfares  of  the  above-named  capitals,  I  see 
always  the  architects,  the  surveyors,  the  engineers, 
the  contractors,  who  will  and  can  do  the  job  for  so 
much  money;  and  if  they  can  get  a  few  more 
millions,  well,  they  can  add  so  much  more  precious 
marble,  that  is  all.    But  artistic  inspiration  ? 

Even  in  a  building  like  the  Paris  Opera  House, 
which  cost  sixty-f9ur  million  francs,  there  is  abso- 
lutely nothing  really  and  artistically  grand,  except 
the  fine  and  superbly  designed  staircase.    That  is 

163 


1 64  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

a  conception,  and  that  is  all.  I  could  show  you  in 
Paris  unpretentious  palaces  and  buildings  which 
cost  a  half-million  of  francs,  and  they  are  artistic 
conceptions.  Just  like  some  newly  written  and  mag- 
nificently worked  out  symphonies  by  the  new  mas- 
ters: they  are  fine  as  workmanship,  nay,  they  may 
be  even  called  magnificent,  but  one  mother-idea  of 
eight  bars  of  the  "  Sinfonia  Eroica,"  or  the  Seventh 
Symphony,  or  the  Ninth,  of  Beethoven,  overshadows 
them  all,  as  the  pyramid  of  Cheops  overshadows  the 
billions  of  sand-cones  in  the  Egyptian  desert.  At 
sunset  you  see  the  pyramid,  but  you  don't  see  the 
sand-cones. 

Speaking  of  pretentious  modern  buildings  which 
are  masterly  and  horrid  abortions,  commend  me  to 
the  State-house  at  Albany,  New  York.  There  is  a 
building  for  you  with  the  most  stupid  and  bloated 
pretensions.  An  appropriation  was  made  years  ago 
by  both  Houses  to  build  a  new  fine  State-house  to  cost, 
I  believe,  three  to  four  millions.  It  has  cost  now  more 
than  sixteen  millions.  Some  of  its  parts  begin  to  de- 
cay, and,  although  seemingly  magnificent,  it  smells 
of  its  contractor,  its  boodle,  and  its  aimless,  stupid 
arrogance. 


VII 
GREEK  AND  JAPANESE  ART 

IN  my  estimation  there  are  only  two  peoples  who 
were  and  are  organically  and  supremely  artistic  in 
all  their  notions.  The  one  was  the  Greek,  with  the 
adjacent  nations  under  its  influence,  and  they  be- 
came degraded  after  the  loftiest  era  of  Pericles  —  an 
era  supremely  artistic  and  at  the  same  time  whole- 
some, entire,  establishing  by  sheer  genius  absolute 
laws  of  the  beautiful.  They  degraded  themselves 
through  politics  and  intestinal  strifes,  foolish  dema- 
gogy, into  the  lowest  Byzantinism,  which  went  down 
and  down  to  the  most  degrading  ignorance  of  the 
Dark  Ages,  only  to  be  lifted  up  again  by  one  man, 
aided  by  a  few  monks  —  Dante  d*Alighieri.  Of 
course  the  Moors  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it.  So 
it  is  with  Japan  of  the  wonderful  era  of  the  Hiochys 
and  the  constellation  of  wonderful  Asiatic  artists 
until  almost  down  to  the  nineteenth  century.  Then 
came  the  Artistic  Misfortune  (maybe  even  the  polit- 
ical) of  opening  the  country  by  Perry.  Since  then  its 
Asiatic  and  absolutely  organic  art  goes  down  the 
grade  with  electric  quickness,  until  nothing  remains 
of  its  manifold  and  beautiful  art  but  the  shoddy  and 

165 


i66  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

its  absolute  cleverness  and  its  commercial  vogue 
and  affectation.*  All  this  is  still  very,  very  clever, 
cleverer  than  anything  we  (the  boasting  civilized 
ones)  can  do.  But  cleverness  is  not  genius;  only 
unbiassed  and  unconscious  workmanship  is  Genius. 
Between  cleverness  and  genius  the  difference  is  as 
great  as  the  useful  charmingness  of  a  bee  and  the 
seeming  similarity  of  the  odious  and  horrible  wasp. 

*JRemenyi*s  keen  observation  is  confirmed  by  the  commercialism  of  much 
of  the  Japanese  art  as  shown  in  the  Louisiana  Purchase  Exposition  in 
J  004. — Edr. 


VIII 

PREDICTION  OF  THE  FUTURE  OF  THE 
UNITED  STATES 

MY  love  and  patriotism  for  America  and  Ameri- 
cans does  not  consist  in  sempiternal  praise 
through  thick  and  thin.  On  the  contrary,  I  can  and 
will  find  fault  there  where  the  fault  is  to  be  found; 
but  I  can  afford  to  do  so  because  I  do  not  do  it  with- 
out cause,  and  my  thorough  and  deep  American 
patriotism  gives  me  entire  liberty  to  see  all  things  in 
their  proper  light.  Besides,  this  is  a  wonderfully 
broad  and  grand  country,  and  because  you  have  to 
pass  hundreds  of  miles  through  sage-brush  and  noth- 
ing else,  this  does  not  prevent  you  from  driving, 
walking,  steaming,  wheeling,  railroading,  riding 
through  thousands  of  miles  of  as  fair  countries  and  as 
beautiful  scenery  as  the  Hesperides  gardens  of  old 
mythical  or  mystic  lore.  Besides,  I  am  sure  when  the 
practical  laws  of  sound  irrigation  will  be  econom- 
ically discovered  and  applied,  those  dreary  and  al- 
most interminable  sage-brush  deserts  will  be  turned, 
through  American  genius,  into  fertile  fields.  You 
can  see  already  where  deserts  have  been  turned  into 
paradise  in  some  of  the  sage-brush  parts  of  California, 

167 


i68  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

whereas,  you  can  see  in  many  southern  parts  of  the 
United  States  vast  countries  not  blessed  with  sage- 
brush but  splendid  fields  utterly  neglected.  By-and- 
by,  all  that  will  be  utilized  to  give  happy  homes  to 
one  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  people  who  will 
inhabit  this  benighted  country  about  twenty-five 
years  hence,  because  Europe  and  even  Africa  will 
send  their  surplus  or  adventurous  or  happy  home- 
seeking  people  to  the  United  States;  and  (don't 
frown!)  the  more  they  come  the  happier  and  grander 
this  country  will  become.  Canada,  Cuba,  Mexico, 
will  belong  to  it  later,  and  the  whole  southern  conti- 
nent of  America.  You,  you,  the  present  composite 
Americans,  are  the  people  who  will  assimilate  the 
Northern  Gaul,  the  Anglo-Saxon,  the  Irish  and 
Scotch  of  Canada,  and  the  Spanish-Indian  peoples 
of  South  America,  whether  you  want  to  do  so  or  not. 
It  is  your  fate,  Monroe  or  no  Monroe  —  (it  n^y  a  pas 
de  Monroe  qui  y  tient,  as  the  old  French  saying  has 
it) ;  that  is,  there  is  no  Monroe  who  can  stand  in  the 
way.    It's  got  to  be. 

I  will  describe  a  legend  of  mine,  which  I  made  up 
in  Winchester,  Virginia,  last  Thursday.  I  found, 
with  the  aid  of  my  intelligent  German  cicerone, 
the  little  stone,  awfully  unpretentious  house  wherein 
dwelt  a  good  sound  engineer,  who  had  to  make  a 
plan  for  a  town,  which  is  now  Winchester.  The 
engineer-surveyor  was  a  young  man,  named  George 
Washington,  and  the  big,  big  lord  who  gave  him  his 
orders  as  a  British  high  official  went  by  the  name  of 


FUTURE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  169 

Lord  Fairfax.  This  Lord  Fairfax  had  a  fine  palatial 
residence  as  Governor  (which  is  now  used  as  a 
school),  and  this  subaltern  officer,  George  Washing- 
ton, had  a  horrid  little  stone  shanty  to  dwell  in.  To 
give  you  an  idea  what  kind  of  an  abode  Washington's 
residence  was,  it  will  suffice  if  I  tell  you  it  looks  very 
much  like  those  Irish  tenement  residences  in  some 
of  the  upper  parts  of  New  York.  Such  is  the  house 
of  George  Washington,  and  Lord  Fairfax's  residence 
is  even  to  this  day  a  palace.  Now,  if  a  Remenyi  of 
that  time,  for  his  fiddling  capacity,  had  been  invited 
to  Lord  Fairfax's  dinner  (with  fine  silver  service), 
that  Remenyi  would  have  risen  up  and  uttered  the 
following  toast  to  Lord  Fairfax  and  the  rest  of  the 
illustrious  guests: 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  met  to-day  a  young  man 
named  George  Washington,  whom  the  noble  host 
of  this  palace  employs  as  a  surveyor.  Ladies  and 
gentlemen,  this  afore-mentioned  George  Washington 
will  make  war  on  you,  will  vanquish  you,  and  will  be 
the  first  president  of  a  big  commonwealth,  and  will 
be  called  the  *  Father  of  his  Country ' ;  whereas  you, 
my  dear  Lord  Fairfax,  you  will  be  utterly  forgotten  — 
or  if  possibly  remembered,  it  will  only  be  through 
George  Washington." 

Well,  this  aforesaid  Remenyi  would  have  been 
kicked  out  with  alacrity  and  speediness,  and  would 
have  been  declared  a  lunatic,  fit  to  be  put  into  a 
strait-jacket!  Nevertheless,  I  should  have  been 
all  right,  shouldn't  I  ?    That  is  my  legend. 


IX 

LOVE  OF  NATURAL  SCENERY* 

I  COULD  go  on  ad  infinitum^  but  will  mention 
only  Newcastle,  Sharon,  Oil  City,  Meadville, 
Greenville,  all  in  Pennsylvania;  and  New  Brighton, 
Rochester,  East  Liverpool,  Steubenville,  all  in  your 
own  bloomingly  blessed  "Buckeye  State,"  and 
Wheeling,  West  Virginia.  Those  cities  are  one  and 
all  situated  in  the  midst  of  a  heavenly  lovely  coun- 
try, good  enough  to  be  inhabited  by  angels  (I  fear 
the  present  inhabitants  are  not  all  angels).  How 
many  Americans  of  the  seventy-four  millions  go 
into  ecstasy  as  I  do,  in  running  through  those  lovable 
and  idyllic  valleys  and  gracefully  shaped  hills  with 
their  most  harmoniously  blended  thousand-fold 
colors  of  your  Indian  summer  foliage !  A  Rousseau, 
a  Dupre,  could  have  painted  in  these  valleys  for 
fifteen  thousand  years  and  would  only  have  been  at 
the  very  beginning,  just  as  Calame  could  have  gorged 
his  unquenchable  thirst  for  glorious  wild  rocks  and 
Alpine  grandeur  in  Colorado,  New  Mexico,  and  in 
some  parts  of  Arizona  for  ages. 
[Again,  writing  from  Washington,  D.  C,  October 

*Wriiten  from  Wheeling,  West  Virginia. — Edr. 

170 


LOVE  OF  NATURAL  SCENERY      171 

17,  1897,  Remenyisays:]  Really,  it  is  a  good  thing 
that  my  poor  eyes  are  so  well  fitted  and  placed  in 
their  respective  tabernacles,  because,  if  they  were  not, 
they  would  leave  their  dwelling-places  quick,  like  a 
shot.  Besides,  all  this  wondrous  country,  lighted 
by  such  a  glorious  autumn  sun,  which  did  pour  its 
myriads  of  rays  with  such  prodigal  prodigality  all 
the  time,  morning,  noon,  until  sunset,  that  it  was  an 
eye-feast  good  enough  for  a  legion  of  archangels. 
And  all  that  magnificent  show  was  given  without 
any  entrance-fee;  and  that  is  the  reason  that  so  many 
millions  of  deadheads  don't  look  at  those  marvellous 
marvels,  whereas  they  applaud  like  madmen  when 
they  see  a  moon  made  out  of  cardboard  and  lighted 
up  with  calcium  lights  and  scenery  painted  with 
untruthful  colors,  overdone, —  those  things  are  ap- 
plauded to  the  sky  (of  the  theatre),  but  a  piece  of 
glorious  natural  scenery  is  enjoyed  only  by  a  very 
few. 


X 

GABRIELE  D'ANNUNZIO 

TO-DAY  I  send  you  a  most  important  interview 
with  Gabriele  d'Annunzio,  the  foremost  liter- 
ary young  man  of  Italy,  if  not  of  the  world.  This 
literary  manifestation,  I  may  say  almost  revelation, 
of  this  young  giant,  is  simply  a  masterpiece  of  mas- 
terpieces; it  is  worthy  to  be  put  away,  all  haloed, 
into  a  golden  shrine,  because  it  contains  more  to  the 
line  than  other  good  literary  works  to  the  volume. 
It  is  an  absolute  revelation,  a  new  leaf  in  literature, 
although  old  as  the  oldest  hills,  but  still  new,  be- 
cause so  few  in  many  centuries  contemplate  matters 
in  such  heavenly,  haloed,  truthful,  beautiful,  glowing 
light.  Read  it,  please,  with  great,  great  attention, 
and  when  you  have  read  it,  read  it  again.  It  ^ill 
teach  you  more  than  volumes  of  the  very  best  litera- 
ture. But,  pray,  most  worthy  sire  (Remenyi),  why 
have  I  to  be  proud  for  this,  these  superb  ideas  of 
this  immortal  interview?  Why?  Because  my  letter, 
written  without  any  ostentation  to  a  friend  privately, 
without  aiming  at  effect,  has  great  similarity  of  ideas, 
although  expressed  quite  differently.  Read  again 
my  Wheeling  letter,  if  it  was  not  thrown  into  the 

17a 


GABRIELE   D'ANNUNZIO  173 

waste-basket,  and  you  will  find  that  my  thoughts 
run  in  the  same  direction;  and  mind,  if  I  had  sup- 
posed that  my  ideas  run  somewhat  originally,  and  it 
had  been  intended  for  publicity,  I  would  have  been 
more  careful  —  although  aiming  at  effect  is  defect. 
Anyhow,  I  will  be  proud  for  five  minutes,  and  then 
I  will  put  on  again  sackcloth  of  meekness,  and 
throw  ashes  on  my  bald  head.  Please  keep  this 
interview  of  D^Annunzio,  because  I  intend  to  analyze 
it  with  you. 


XI 

FATHER  NIAGARA 

I  WRITE  you  these  few  lines  to  let  you  know  that 
I  am  overpowered  by  the  basso  projondo  of  Father 
Niagara.  .  .  .  This  great  old  man  does  not  bar- 
gain, neither  with  his  grandeur,  nor  of  his  beauty, 
nor  of  his  eternal  eternity  ( limited  all  the  same).  In 
short.  Papa  Niagara  does  his  duty,  and  he  has  ren- 
dered me  happy,  yesterday  and  to-day.  In  front  of 
my  windows  there  are  the  Rapids  and  the  brilliant 
sprays  to  rejoice  my  eyes;  I  am  in  ecstasy,  and  I 
played  yesterday  at  the  concert  like  ten  thousand 
bricks.  I  did  not  recognize  myself,  and  that  is  all 
due  to  Father  Niagara.  *^A  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy 
forever  " — that 's  what  Father  Niagara  whispers  in- 
to my  ears. 


174 


XII 
AN  ESSAY  ON  BACH* 

If  you  want  music  for  your  own  and  music's  sake, 
look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  music  which  is  as  absolutely  full  of 
meaning  as  an  egg  is  full  of  meat,  look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  rhythm,  melody,  harmony,  and 
counterpoint  dropping  down  on  you  as  easily  as  a 
tepid  summer  rain,  look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  absolute  music  without  any  devia- 
tion from  the  sublime  line  of  beauty,  and  without 
any  void,  look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  heavenly  music  sent  down  to  Mother 
Earth,  look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  four  and  five  part  writings  with  as 
much  ease  as  four  or  five  angels  ethereally  breath- 
ing, look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  drama,  if  you  want  tragedy,  comedy, 
subHme  farce,  jollity,  humor,  look  up  to  Bach.  He 
had  the  absolute  gamut  of  every  human  feeling,  with 
the  exception  of  satire,  which  has  no  heavenly  attri- 
bute. 

*  Written  in  an  observation  car  on  the  way  from  Telluridej  Colorado ^ 
to  Rica  under  the  impulse  of  the  moment. 

175 


176  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

If  you  want  to  hear  how  they  will  or  may  sing  in 
the  seventh  heaven,  listen  to  his  Passion  music. 

If  you  want  to  hear  a  fugue  written  with  the  care 
and  naturalness  of  a  legerdemain  from  the  celestial 
abode,  look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  to  hear  the  endless  melody,  look  up 
to  Bach. 

If  you  want  to  hear  a  concert  such  as  might  be 
ordered  by  the  Lord  in  high  heaven,  the  leader  of 
that  orchestra  is  sure  to  be  John  Sebastian  Bach. 

If  you  want  to  hear  so-called  Catholic  music  or 
so-called  Protestant  music,  look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  to  discover  all  the  genuis  music  might 
possess,  look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  absolute  beauty,  and  all  that  beauty 
may  suggest,  look  up  to  Bach. 

If  you  want  to  know  who  is  the  embodiment  of  a 
musical  archangel,  point  to  Sebastian  Bach,  and  the 
billions  of  cherubs  and  seraphs  will  nod  to  you,  and 
the  good  Lord  will  give  His  consent. 

Children  of  tender  age,  who  learn  music,  and  after 
having  acquired  the  necessary  and  elementary  rudi- 
ments, and  after  having  somehow  learned  how  to 
play  the  scales  pretty  smoothly,  ought  to  be  put  at 
once  to  play  the  two-voiced  pieces  so  wonderfully 
full  of  jollity  and  pure  invention  by  Sebastian  Bach. 
A  child  put  to  such  a  task  in  a  playful  way,  and  en- 
dowed with  a  little  talent,  would  make  astonishing 
progress,  and  thus  save  a  great  deal  of  precious  time 


AN  ESSAY  ON  BACH  177 

and  unnecessary  trouble  in  after  life,  and  would  be 
thus  endowed,  through  studying  Bach  in  his  tender 
age,  with  an  almost  unerring  judgment  in  music; 
and,  especially,  such  a  musical  child  would  never  say 
in  after  life,  "This  is  a  good  piece  for  an  encore," 
and  "It  takes  with  the  public,"  and  such  encore 
pieces  would  never  see  the  light  of  day,  trashily 
complied  (not  composed)  by  too  many  musical  nin- 
compoops all  over  the  world. 

Anyhow,  Bach  ought  to  be  the  daily  bread,  the 
shibboleth,  the  taHsman,  the  panacea,  and  the  vade 
mecum  of  every  musician;  and  if  that  would  or  could 
be  the  case,  then  music  would  be  the  art  of  arts. 
Being  not  yet  rightly  treated,  it  is  already  an  art 
and  science  combined,  sent  to  us  from  heaven  as  a 
consoling  medium  between  here  and  there,  of  which 
the  archangel  is  Bach. 


XIII 
VIOLINS  AND  VIOLIN-MAKING 

IT  is  unnecessary  to  make  a  legend  about  the  vio- 
lin; that  is,  to  overdo  the  effort  to  make  its  his- 
tory poetical,  when  the  instrument,  just  as  it  stands,  is 
perfect  poetry.  Why  should  we  go  into  fables  about 
this  or  any  other  violin?  Here,  look  at  this;  where 
will  you  find  an  instrument  with  so  little  that  is 
mechanical  about  it,  and  yet  has  so  much  soul  as  the 
violin?  How  simple  and  how  perfect!  After  all 
it  is  only  a  few  pieces  of  spruce  and  maple,  some 
strings  and  a  few  pegs.  Its  shape  cannot  be  im- 
proved ;  it  was  brought  to  perfection  years  ago,  and 
no  ingenuity  or  skill  can  alter  it  for  the  better. 

Ah  ha,  you  like  it !  Yes,  it  is  a  Stradivarius,  made 
in  1704,  before  Stradivarius  had  quite  put  the  ideas 
which  he  had  acquired  from  his  master,  Nicholas 
Amati,  out  of  his  mind.  Caspar  di  Salo,  the  Mag- 
ginis,  the  numberless  Amatis  (the  makers  of  that 
name,  I  mean  —  there  were  seven  or  eight  of  them), 
the  Stainers,  and  all  the  rest,  during  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries,  were  merely  the  great 
predecessors,  leading  up  to  and  concentrating  their 
powers  in  the  two  greatest  geniuses  of  violin-making 

178 


REMENYI  WITH  HIS  STRADIVARIUS 
(Said  to  be  Remenyi's  best  photograph.     Taken  in  December,  1891 ) 


VIOLINS   AND  VIOLIN-MAKING  179 

at  Cremona;  namely,  Guarnerius  (Joseph  del  Gesu 
— there  were  six  or  seven  other  makers  of  the  same 
name)  and  Stradivarius,  just  as  all  the  great  painters 
and  sculptors,  all  that  galaxy  of  artists  in  the  Renais- 
sance were  the  predecessors,  and  concentrated  their 
forces  in  Michael  Angelo,  Raffael,  and  Leonardo  da 
Vinci.  As  the  fine  arts  culminated  in  these  great 
artists,  so  the  glorious  art  of  violin-making  culmin- 
ated in  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  when 
Guarnerius  died  at  quite  an  early  age,  and  Stradi- 
varius at  the  age  of  ninety-two.  Then  there  came  at 
once  a  decline  in  the  art  of  violin-making,  and  not 
even  the  best  of  Stradivarius's  pupils  were  able  to 
work  with  complete  success  at  the  art  which  their 
master  had  taught  them. 

Now,  to  what  shall  we  attribute  the  decline  in  the 
art  of  violin-making  ?  I  believe  it  is  due  to  the  limi- 
tation of  human  capacity.  Men  are  not  capable  of 
remaining  a  long  time  in  perfection,  or  as  some  say 
—  which  amounts  to  much  the  same  thing — there 
was  at  that  time  a  want  of  genius,  which  at  some 
epochs  is  more  general  than  at  others.  It  was  so  in 
music  at  the  end  of  the  last  century.  Then  was  the 
splendid  epoch  of  the  genius  of  Haydn,  Mozart,  and 
Beethoven,  but  of  course  we  must  remember  they 
were  followed  by  a  splendid  constellation,  which  in- 
cluded such  men  as  Mendelssohn  and  Schumann, 
and  the  decline  was  more  gradual  than  in  the  art  of 
violin-making.    And   in  literature,  too,  you  know 


i8o  EDOUARD   REMENYI 

it  is  the  same.  There  are  epochs  when  the  great 
writers  seem  to  come  all  together,  and  after  them 
there  seems  to  be  nothing  left  to  be  written  for  a  cen- 
tury or  more. 

I  do  not  attach  so  much  importance  to  the  age  of 
a  violin,  but  rather  look  to  the  ability  of  the  maker,  as 
exhibited  in  the  instrument  I  may  be  judging.  If 
age  were  a  great  test  of  merit,  then  the  violins  made 
by  the  Amatis,  Magginis,  and  others  should  be  better 
than  those  made  by  Stradivarius  and  Guarnerius. 
Nay,  more,  I  will  say  that  a  perfect  violin  is  the  work 
of  a  genius,  not  simply  of  a  skilful  artisan.  Such 
was  the  distinguished  French  maker,  Lupot,  who 
made  splendid  violins,  imitating  Stradivarius  in  every 
respect,  in  shape,  varnish,  wood,  and  workmanship. 
He  was  a  genius.  We  have  his  violins,  now  more 
than  eighty  years  old,  but  they  are  not  to  be  compared 
with  those  of  the  two  great  masters  of  the  first  half  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  They  must  have  had  a 
special  genius  for  their  work,  knowing  exactly  the 
quality  of  wood,  the  thickness  they  had  to  give  it  in 
working  it  out,  and  a  hundred  other  details  which 
were  not  secrets,  but  which  could  be  brought  to  the 
same  state  of  perfection  by  pupils  who  had  not  genius 
like  theirs.  The  most  laudatory  thing  that  can  be 
said  about  one  of  these  violin-makers  is,  not  that  his 
work  is  so  many  years  old,  but  simply  that  its  quality 
proves  who  was  its  maker.  It  was  not  mere  chance 
with  these  men.    We  dare  not  say  that,  because 


VIOLINS  AND  VIOLIN-MAKING  i8i 

every  violin  which  has  come  from  their  hands,  and 
which  has  not  been  altered  in  pseudo-repairing,  is 
perfect.  But  we  might  write  columns  upon  this 
theme  without  exhausting  it.  Only  think  of  it! 
There  has  been  no  change  whatever  in  the  violin  from 
its  earliest  days,  except  in  the  outlines  of  its  form, 
and  Guamerius  and  Stradivarius  gave  it  its  present 
shape. 


XIV 
PAINTINGS  — GREUZE  AND  REMBRANDT* 

THIS  ought  to  have  been  written  long  ago,  but 
somehow  or  other,  it  always  escaped  my  brain, 
and  my  thoughts  went  into  other  channels.  Of 
the  Greuze  all  I  can  say  is,  and  I  know  what 
I  am  speaking  of,  that  it  is  even  better  than  his 
masterpiece,  "Za  Cruche  Cassee  "  ("  The  Broken 
Jug"))  in  the  Louvre.  In  coloring  it  is  certainly 
much  better  treated.  It  is  absolute  perfection,  and 
so  true.  I  am  sure  there  is  no  better  picture  in 
the  Chicago  Art  Institute,  if  I  may  except  "The 
Servant  Girl,"  by  Rembrandt.  That  is  the  only 
picture  in  the  Art  Institute  which,  in  my  opinion, 
is  better,  although  the  comparison  is  scarcely 
fair.  The  two  pictures  are  absolutely  different. 
Their  individuality  is  peculiar  and  sui  generis, 
and  the  treatment  of  each  one  is  of  a  different  (art) 
world,  so  that  comparison  is  out  of  the  question. 
The  Greuze  is  true  and  more  ideal  than  "  The  Ser- 
vant Girl"  of  Rembrandt,  but  then  Rembrandt's 
treatment  of  his  subject  is  still  truer  though  less  ideal. 

*Remenyi  refers  in  this  sketch  to  paintings  in  his  own  collection. 
He  was  familiar  with  the  technique  and  epochs  oj  every  school. 

182 


GREUZE  AND  REMBRANDT  183 

Greuze  looked  into  the  face  of  his  subject  and  put 
her  up  into  heaven;  Rembrandt  looked  also  into  the 
face  of  his  subject  and  put  her  into  his  heart.  His 
artistic  heart  was  his  heaven,  and  a  grand  heaven  it 
was  —  a  heaven  full  of  human  radiancy  and  truth- 
fulness, which  reflect,  with  an  extra  haloed  glory,  on 
the  firmament  of  art,  where  he  was  such  a  shining 
sun.  I  would  say  Rembrandt  was  a  Sebastian  Bach 
with  a  glimpse  of  Beethoven,  and  Greuze  was  a 
Chopin  with  a  glimpse  of  Mozart. 

It  was  Mr.  Arthur  Dawson,  who  is  a  fine  critic 
and  connoisseur,  who  discovered  that  my  Van  der 
Heist  is  not  a  Van  der  Heist  but  a  Philippe  de  Cham- 
pagne, which  is  much  better.  Just  as  I  think  that  my 
friend's  Caravaggio  (that  wicked  man  playing  the 
flute)  is,  after  due  reflection,  not  a  Caravaggio  at  all. 
It  is  a  much  better  picture  (not  Italian),  but  of  the 
Dutch  School.  There  were  some  Dutch  masters  who 
imitated  the  Italian  style  —  few,  but  there  were  such 
—  and  this  Dutch  Caravaggio  is  of  those.  All  this 
dawned  on  me  only  two  or.three  weeks  ago.  I  have 
that  retrospective  faculty;  not  only  the  faculty,  but 
I  am  also  able  to  correct  my  somewhat  erroneous 
judgment  without  the  least  difficulty. 

Art  posesses  me  entirely.  With  me  it  is  not  an 
agreeable  pastime;  it  is  my  life,  my  blood,  my  every- 
thing. 


A 


XV 

APHORISMS 

RT  is  a  virgin  who  resents  and  revenges  her- 
self on  anybody  who  is  rash  enough  to  soil  her. 


A  little  too  much  is  much  too  much;  a  wee  bit  too 

little  is  not  sufficient. 

*  #     * 

The  difference  between  a  bee  and  a  wasp  is  not 
great,  but  that  difference  makes  all  the  difference. 

If  a  musician  should  be  vain,  whisper  into  his  ears 
the  name  of  Beethoven;  and  if,  on  hearing  that  name, 
the  musician  does  not  collapse,  stick  a  pin  into  him 
as  into  a  full-blown-up  bladder,  and  just  look  at  his 
collapse! 

There  are  but  two  things  absolutely  absolute; 

those  two  things  are  Love  and  Art. 

*  *     * 

Duty  is  the  only  joy;  work  the  only  consolation. 

*  *     * 

'^  Le  mieux  est  tou jours  ennemi  du  hien^^;  mats 

184 


APHORISMS  185 

dans  ce  cas  le  meilleurissime  est  pour  toujour s  ennemi 

mime  du  meilleur. 

*     *    * 

You  are  hard  at  work;  you  do  well  to  do  so.  An- 
gels must  work;  only  drones  do  not.  Besides, 
Leonardo  da  Vinci  says:  ^^Vogli  sempre  qiiel  che  tu 

debt.'' 

*  *     * 

"  I  should  like  to  have  heard ,  who  sings 

classically."  Does  he?  Does  she?  It  is  not  so  easy 
to  sing  classically,  after  my  ideas.  Are  you  not  too 
lenient  ?  In  some  respects  it  is  good  to  be  lenient ;  I 
can't  be,  I  'm  sorry  to  say,  in  art  matters.  Art,  real 
art,  is  absolute,  and  not  lenient  either,  when  judged 

by  Michael  Angelo  or  Schumann. 

*  *     * 

Au  jond,  he  knows  a  good  thing  when  he  sees  it, 
and,  what  is  more,  he  has  the  holy  enthusiasm  for 

Art,  which  is  a  fine  gift.* 

*  *     * 

If  the  young  musician  takes  his  art  into  his  soul 
and  heart,  he  will  become  one;  if  not,  not.    He 

ought  to  grow. 

*  #     # 

Die  echte  Verkldrung  in  der  Kunst  ist  das  ewig 
Natiirliche.'f 

*  This  refers  to  a  new  acquairUance. 

^The  true  ideal  in  art  is  eternally  the  natural. 


XVI 

NOTES     AND     LETTERS     WRITTEN    TO     A 
YOUNG    FRIEND 

I 
Elkhart,  Ind.,  May  14,  1897. 
Ma  Chere  Enfant : — 

ILy  a  dans  moi  une  coquetterie  fSroce,  car  quand 
vous  aspirerez  avec  dSlice  le  parjum  dcre  de  cette  ex- 
cellente  ragine  Orientate,  je  savais  d6jh  que  le  paquet 
entier  vous  appartenait,  mais  fat  maintenu  my 
inborn  ferocious  coquetterie  et  je  me  suis  dit  quel  effet 
cela  produira  quand  elk  recevra  tout  le  paquet  envoye 
de  quelque  part. 

Le  voilcL  done  ce  paquet,  et  quoique  je  ne  sois  ni  Grec, 
ni  jeune,  ni  beau,  au  contraire  tout  poturonesque 
(^\xra^\!in\s poturon  in  French)  cependant  il  y  aura 
de  la  joie  dans  la  maison  en  recevant  le  petit  paquet. 
And  now,  faites  le  moi  savoirpar  un  petit  mot  addr esse 
a  E.  Remenyi,  b>  Chicago,  III.,  if  everything  is  all 
O.  K.  dans  la  belle  et  bonne  maison,  et  si  on  se  souvi- 
ent  avec  bienveillance  du  Seigneur  Pumpkinois  et  de 
toutes  ses  Crankinismes  ?  Je  joue  tous  les  jours  de 
mieux  en  mieux  quelquefois,  quand  je  suis  dans  la 
tr^s  sainte  furie  je  joue  comme  1,000,000,000,000 

186 


NOTES  AND  LETTERS  187 

diableSj  diabloHns,  imps,  gnomes,  et  d'autres  bites 
feroces  —  et  avec  la  grdce  des  gazelles.  There  now, 
there  is  vanity  for  you  —  of  course  there  is ! 

Je  donnerai  trots  sous  si  je  pouvais  vous  avoir 
aupres  de  moi,  vous,  et  voire  chere  mbre  et  excel- 
lentissime  phe,  et  mime  voire  tante,  en  un  mot,  je  me 
suis  enamourache  de  tout,  msme  des  pierres  de  cette 
belle  et  bonne  maison  antique  —  et  maintenant  bien  de 
choses  tout  ce  quHl  y  ade  plus  aimables  pour  vous 
tous  —  and  all  the  rosy  greetings  from  heaven  and 
musical  and  other  paradises.    Good-bye. 

Your  friend, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 

P.  S. — N^osez  pas  arriver  ^  N,  Y.,  avant  que  j  ^y 
sois  —  vous  le  saurez  quand  —  car  nous  resterons 
{avec  ou  sans  voire  permission)  en  correspondence. 
Eljen  Maty  as  Kiraly  qui  veut  dire  en  hongroise,  Vive 
Mathias  Corvinus  roil 

2 

May  18,  1897. 

And  now  I  must  acknowledge  with  horror-stricken 
and  sackclothed  penance  my  abomination  of  not 
having  mentioned  in  my  last  letter  your  Narcissus 
ApoUonea  little  brother.  Oetait  a  Ihse-majeste,  stu- 
pid neglect  on  my  part,  for  which  I  ask  his  boyship- 
dom  ten  million  times  pardon.  More  I  cannot  do  — 
if  I  should  even  stand  on  my  head.  But  can  I,  poor 
Hungarian,  get  along  in  this  world  when  "  Meghalt, 
Maty  as  Kiraly  oda  aj  igaysaj  "  ?  —  which  Hungarian 


i88  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

proverb  means  "  King  Matthias  Corvinus  is  dead, 
and  justice  has  died  with  him,"  And  now  I  finish, 
as  I  have  yet  much  to  do.  You  ought  to  hear  me 
now,  when  I  have  my  friend  Sanolet  as  an  accompa- 
nist. Oh,my!  "Oh,  gracious!"  '*  Oh,  holy  smoke!" 
What  an  artistico-artistic  playing  it  is,  and  how 
artistically  you  all  would  enjoy  it!  With  love  to 
you  all. 

Your  old  gentleman  friend,  Le  Epicurien  and 
high-liver  friend,  Ed.  Remenyi. 

P.  S. — Les  pauvres  Grecs  sont  toujours  battus* 

3 

Rhinelander,  Wis.,  June  5,  1897. 

Tai  regu  voire  honnissimie  lettre,  et  il  est  evidem- 
ment  evident  que  je  n'ai  pas  regu  voire  seconde  letire, 
Elle  se  promhne  prohahlement  de  post  office  en  P.  O., 
forwarded  and  forwarded  until  it  will  reach  me,  Anno 
Domini  1997;  some  time  in  that  year  when  I  will  be 
again  in  my  fifth  or  sixth  youth,  not  h  la  Ponce  de 
L6on,  but  h  la  Edouardus  Remenyibus.  You  wrote  me 
something  splendid,  and  that  is  that  your  splendid 
mother  looks  so  well  after  her  campagne  Aufent- 
halt. 

Alas,  I  will  not  Kook  Kuchen  through  the  big 
telescope;  the  d — d  fools  in  building  its  pedestal  did 
not  calculate  its  weight  and  almost  jeopardized  the 

*  Referring  to  the  Greco-Turkish  war  of  1897,  and  Greek  friends  par- 
ticipating in  it. 


EDOUARD  REMENYI 
(  From  a  photograph  presented  to  the  author  in  1897  ) 


NOTES  AND  LETTERS  189 

very  telescope,  and  so  I  am  cheated  out  of  my  visit 
to  the  spheres.  Dash  it  all,  I  am  in  a  r-r-r-age. 
Love  to  you  all. 

Your  old  gentleman  friend, 

Edguard  Remenyi. 

4 

(Undated.) 

How  is  it  that  you  did  not  let  me  know  if  you  re- 
ceived the  fragrant  root,  which  is  not  Hungarian 
but  Oriental,  pure  and  simple  ?  Now  take  immedi- 
ately hold  of  a  pen,  do  it  with  speediness  and  alacrity, 
and  inform  me  of  this,  and  of  many  other  Matthias 
Corvinesque  matters,  and  of  everything,  and  of  some 
other  matters. 

You  heard  me  that  morning,  the  day  when  I  left 
you?  All  right,  that  was  nofing:  you  ought  to 
hear  me  now,  now  that  my  friend  pianist  and  ac- 
companist has  arrived  from  San  Francisco,  and  you 
would  hear  M-u-s-i-c,  you  bet !  Cest  le  cas  de  dire 
"  le  mieux  est  tou jours  ennemi  du  Men  ";  mats  dans  ce 
cas  le  meilleurissime  est  pour  toujours  ennemi  meme 
du  meilleur. 

I  am  at  last  in  my  orientally  perfumed  musical 
element  (with  a  double  vengeance),  and  now  at  last, 
after  years  of  musical  and  forced  Carime  (Lent),  I 
am  in  a  perfect  exotic  musical  garden  of  Hesperides 
and  musical  Champs  Elysees,  I  could  make  you 
now  paint  miniatures,  grandiatures,  in  oil,  in  pastel, 
in  Tod  und  Teufel  that  you  would  not  recognize 


190  EDOUARD   REMENYI 

yourself,  and  that  the  female  zealous  paintress  would, 
could,  and  should  paint  until  nothing  would  remain  of 
her  but  a  spot  —  there  now!  I  must  finish.  I  have 
to  rehearse  some  foine  new  pieces  of  music  of  my 
own  composition,  des  pihces  qui  ne  se  mouchent 
pas  du  pied.  This  means  "unpretentious  pieces, 
yes,  but  devilishly  good  all  the  same." 

Voire  vieil  ami, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 

5 

June  17,  1897. 

T  aurais  du  vous  ecrire  et  vous  remercier  avant  voire 
last  honne  leiire,  mais  il  esi  encore  ioujours  temps  de 
le  faire  cl  present,  car  il  rCy  a  pas  peril  endemeure^ 
n^esi  ce  pas  ?  Je  ne  sais  pas  au  jusie  quand  ma  saison 
va  finir,  mais  je  crois  vers  le  fin  du  mois  de  Juillei 
or  beginning  of  August,  car,  malgre  les  chaleurs 
accdblantes  le  public  vieni  h  mes  concerts  ei  m^applaudie 
a  ioui  casser,  Aujourd^hui  (17  Juin,  1S97)  i'^^  ^4 
ans,  ei  je  me  porie  a  merveille,  grdce  a  ma  dieie.  On  the 
4th  of  July,  je  jiierai  mon  2>oo-ihme  jour  de  ceiie 
dieie — pomme-hredid-lait-ique;  ei  plus  je  m^avance 
dans  cetie  dieie  plus  j^y  vois  ses  avaniages.  Les 
autres  laisseni  pendre  leur  langues  dans  cetie  chaleur, 
iandis  que  moi,  je  me  sens  comme  un  young  spring  in 
field.  Comment  esi  tout  le  monde  h  la  belle  et  bonne 
— good  old  mansion?  Of  course  all  and  every- 
body is  all  O.  K.  and  well,  and  must  be  well,  if  not 
wellerer.    I  do  not  know  where  I  finish  my  season. 


NOTES  AND  LETTERS  191 

but  I  will  let  you  know  in  one  or  two  weeks  where 
and  when,  and  then  you  will  know  if  I  can  still  come 

to .    If  not,  the  prophetesses  and  the  prophet 

will  come  to  the  mountain.  I  am  glad  that  you  are 
hard  at  work.  Duty  the  only  joy;  work  the  only  con- 
solation! Write  as  often  as  you  want  or  can,  but 
write.    Love  to  all. 

From  your  64-year-old  fiddler  friend, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 
6 
Chere,  Cara  Corvina:  — 

Et  pourquoi  ne  rn'a-t-on  pas  repondu  h  ma  dernihre 
lettre,  car  je  voulais  ahsolument  savoir  quand  vous 
autres  vous  arriverez  h  New  York.  Moi!  Malheureuse- 
ment  je  n^arriverai  que  le  10  AoM.  Please  jaites 
moi  done  savoir  par  retour  du  courrier  quand  la 
Corvinus  Matthias  family  sera  in  New  York  —  how 
long  and  where  they  will  dwell.  Unfortunately 
ma  pauvre  femme  est  trh  malade,  et  comme  elle  souffre 
et  depuis  combien  de  temps.  Avis  a  la  lectrice. 
Love  to  all. 

Your  old  gentleman  friend, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 

P.  S. —  Please  tell  me  all  about  your  work  —  all. 

7 
Oscoda  and  Au  Sable,  Mich., 

July  27,  1897. 

Chere  Corvina: — 

En  fin  fai  en  une  bonne  petite  lettre  de  vous,    Merci. 


192  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Je  suis  enchants  que  vous  aspirez  un  air  pur  and 
unadulteratedly  unadulterated  as  you  are  yourself. 
There  now,  there  is  a  good  compliment.  When 
you  will  come  to  New  York  only  the  gods  on 
Olympus  know,  and  the  little  fishes  !  I  will  arrive 
in  New  York  on  the  eighth  or  ninth  of  August, 
but  how  long  I  can  or  will  remain,  I  don't  know  yet; 
five  —  six  weeks  anyhow  in  going  out  from  and  com- 
ing into  New  York;  for  one  or  three  days  to  Philadel- 
phia, for  one,  three,  or  four  days  to  Dobbs  Ferry  near 
New  York  to  see  IngersoU;  maybe  somewhere  else, 
too,  for  a  couple  of  days.  Of  course  I  will  know 
the  time  you  can  or  are  coming  to  New  York.  I  will 
be  at  home  to  expect  your  Royal  Highness. 

Quand  h  un  desir  de  peindre  comme  Raffaelo  and 
Michel  Angela,  comme  les  Italiens  Vappelent,  c^est 
un  ddsir  trhs  modeste  plus  que  modeste  d^une  descen- 
dante  de  Matthias  Corvinus. 

I  will  have  a  great  deal  to  do  in  New  York,  and  for 
that  reason  your  Royal  Highness's  presence  would  be 
very  desirable.  En  attendant,  je  finis  ma  lettre,  wish- 
ing for  three  quadrillion  tons  of  heavenly  pure  air, 
in  which  your  Royal  Highness  may  recuperate  all 
your  artistic  strength, — so  much  not  protected,  in  fact 

so  little  understood  in .    It  must  have  done  to 

you  a  car-load  of  good  to  have  near  you  for  a  couple 
of  hours  your  obedient  servant,  your  friend  the  old 
gentleman  who  (h)appreciated  you  fully,  without  an 
h,  and  who  is  your  friend  through  all  the  spheres  — 


NOTES   AND  LETTERS  193 

and  there  are  yet  a  few  of  them  of  which  neither  your 
Royal  Highness  has  any  knowledge  or  tidings, 
neither  your  faithful  amigo  muy  devoHssimo, 

Edguard  Remenyi. 
8 
New  York,  August  16,  1897. 

Your  good  letter  with  enclosed  introduction  duly, 
awfully  duly,  received.  I  thank  you  for  both  — 
but  I  do  not  thank  you  for  not  coming,  or  for  not 
being  able  to  come,  to  New  York,  as  I  yearned  and 
longed  to  see  you  from  a  friendly  view,  from  an 
artistic  standpoint,  to  discuss  two  million  points  on 
art  matters,  and  then  we  would  not  have  been  at  the 
beginning  of  the  matter.  And,  from  a  Corvinian 
standpoint  too,  because  you  must  know  that  the  in- 
auguration of  his  monument,  of  his  great  monument, 
will  take  place  at  Kolozsvar-Erd^ly;  in  German, 
Klausenburg-Siebenburgen  (in  Latin,  Erd^ly  is  Tran- 
sylvania), and  I  believe  that  if  you  can  show  even 
in  a  midgety  way  your  descent  from  Hungary's 
greatest  king,  you  and  your  mother,  you  would  get 
such  a  reception  that  even  the  archangels  would 
envy  you;  and  they  are  not  noted  for  their  envious 
disposition,  are  they  ? 

Now,  my  dear  Corvina,  a  simple  question:  In 
your  last  letter,  you  address  me,  ^^Mon  cher  ami,^^  in 
to-day's  you  write  '^  My  dear  Signor."  This  is  on 
my  dear  Corviniana's  part,  absolutely  erroneous,  as  I 
am  not  an  Italian.    If  you  want  to  be  very  polite 


194  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

to  me  you  would  be  obliged  to  write  ^^  Edes  Re- 
menyi  Ur  "  ("  dear  Remenyi  Mister  ").  This  is  Hun- 
garian. Herr,  Monsieur,  Signor,  Sefior,  Dom,  Don, 
Pafie,  Mister,  are  "  Ur "  in  Hungarian,  and  the 
"  Ur ''  Cometh  after  the  Remenyi,  that  is,  Remenyi 
Mister.    Now  you  know  it. 

As  to  going  to ,  it  is  more  than  tempting,  but 

between  the  cup  and  the  lip  there  is  many  a  slip,  and 
between  my  goodiest  wish,  desire,  and  will,  and  my 
poter  d'andare  it  y  a  thirty  billion  impediments,  but 
qui  vive  verra.  Greeting  to  your  parents,  and  where 
is  the  Narcissus  AppoUonia?  If  he  wants  a  good 
violin  cheap,  he  can  have  one.  I  know  of  one.  Thou- 
sand million  greetings  and  thanks  to  my  good  and 
genial  friend  Corviniana. 

From  her  devoted  palm-tree  fiddler, 
Edguard  Remenyi. 

9 

New  York,  Sept.  lo,  1897. 

Yes,  I  will  be  in  Erie,  Pa.,  on  the  twentieth.  Erie  is 
the  only  place  I  know  of.  After  the  twentieth  where 
to  will  be  my  route  I  don't  know,  but  in  a  few  days 
I  will  get  it  and  will  send  it  to  you  immediately.  But 
I  despair  all  the  same  of  meeting  you  on  the  road. 
After  the  twentieth  of  November  I  will  be  de  retour 
in  New  York  for  three  months,  and  I  think  you  may 
still  be  here,  and  that  would  give  me  great  joy,  great! 

Six  magnificent  masterpieces  are  here  —  two 
Dupr^s,  one  Morland,  one  Rousseau,  one  Panini, 


NOTES  AND  LETTERS  195 

and  one  Calame  (magnificent  Alpine  painter,  mag- 
nificent!); but  all  six  are  masterpieces.  Oh!  I  hope 
you  will  see  these. 

I  will  dine  at  M 's  next  Tuesday,  and  every- 
thing will  be  all  O.  K.,  except  Corvina  will  not  be 

there,  and  that  is  bad,  of  course.   Is  n't   X a 

fine  fellow  ?  Yes,  he  is,  but  he  ought  to  be  four  or 
five  inches  taller,  on  fait  ce  qu^on  pent,  n^est  ce  pas? 
Have  you  received  my  last  letter  badly  directed? 
Love  to  you  all. 

From  your  very  devoted  friend, 

Edguard  Remenyi. 
10 
Oswego,  New  York,  Sept.  29,  1897. 
Chere  Amie  Cgrvina: — 

Voire  bonne  et  charmante  lettre  m^est  arrivi  hier  id 
a  Owego.  Elle  m^a  fait  grandement  plaisir  et  faint- 
erais  Men  voir  vos  dessins  pour  les  vitraux,  I  could 
perhaps  suggest  something  to  your  ladyship.  Vous 
pouvez  vous  aisiment  imaginer  comme  je  me  rSjouie 
dejh  a  vous  revoir  a  New  York  —  hein  ?  En  aurons 
nous  des  conversations  ci  nous  deux  h  donner  Venvie 
aux  dieux  et  dresses  Olympiens  I  Je  ne  vous  dis 
qui  ga  I 

Tai  Scrit,  ily  a  trois  jours,  une  assez  tongue  lettre 

CL  Monsieur ,  qui  est  vraiment  un  homme  superbe, 

digne  d^etre  encadre  dans  une  auriole  quand  on  pense 
aux  millions  de  nincumpoops  qu^on  rencontre  sur  le 
haut  chemin  de  la  vie,   et  dire  que    je  dois  cette 


196  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

connaissance  h  la  cherissime  Corvina.  Mais  ce  n^est 
qu'a  New  York  que  la  Mre  Corvina  verra  comme  quoi 
je  me  connais  dans  son  art,  and  don't  you  forgettez- 
vousl  Vous  verrez  que  le  vieux  est  bon  cl  quelque  chdse 
et  que  le  Vieux  se  sont  tous  les  jours  plus  jeune  h  cause 
de  sa  diHe  (aujourd^hui  389  jours  of  high  living, — 
on  the  left).  Les  pommes  sont  exquises,  Le  pain  est 
exquiSy  et  le  lait  est  du  Nectar  pur,  et  j^en  suis  trbs 
fier,  que  je  suis  le  un  entre  un  million  —  voire  mime 
ma  situation  sociale  etles  milles  et  milk  temptations,  un 
entre  vingt  millions.  And  so  I  am  going  on  with  excel- 
sior brows  in  the  happy  expectation  to  see  you  soon. 
Give  my  love  to  all. 

Your  friend  the  old  gentleman  who  will  soon  have 
his  twenty-fifth  anniversary, 

Edouard  Remenyi. 
II 
Winchester,  Va.,  Oct.  14,  1897. 

Washington's  old  historical  town!  Tr^s  interes- 
sant  pour  moil  Endlich,  en  fin  vous  voila  arrive  cl 
New  York  chez  votre  charmante  amie  Lilian,  and  I 
hope  to  see  a  great  deal  of  you,  of  you  both,  during 
my  stay  in  New  York,  after  the  twentieth  or  twenty- 
second  of  November.  That  it  will  be  a  grand  pleasure 
to  the  old  man  (I),  cela  va  sans  dire;  in  fact,  I  rejoice 
at  the  outlook  almost  with  a  child's  joy,  who  is  to 
get  his  Christmas  presents  and  pounds  of  candies. 
I  hope  nothing,  nothing,  nothing  will  intervene  with 
this  symphonistic  grand  joy  of  mine.    And  now, 


NOTES  AND  LETTERS  197 

good  Corvina,  put  on  your  holidayest  garbs,  looks, 
wits,  allures,  gestures,  smiles,  and  even  tears  if  you 
may  have  some  for  Hellenic,  I  mean  Greek,  joys  * 

My  wife  and  my  twins  will  receive  you  with  open 
arms,  and  show  you  all  I  have  still  at  home ;  what 
you  will  get  from  the  old  Man  (me)  is  absolutely 
reserved  to  the  old  man:  he  (the  old  man)  never 
would  give  that  privilege  to  anyone  but  to  himself, 
to  present  it  or  them  to  your  gladdened  artistic  eyes. 
Write  me  always  to  85th  Street;  everybody  there 
knows  that  you  have  a  shrine  in  my  heart  —  and 
don't  you  forget  it,  sHl  vous  plait,  I  do  not  know  if 
our  great  friend  will  mention  to  you  that  I  am  obliged 
to  send  him  weekly  an  epistolary  instalment;  and 
you  have  no  idea  with  what  gusto  and  pleasure  I 
send  those  epistolary  offenbarungen  (revelations)  of 
my  soul  to  that  pearl  of  American  Manhood. 

An  awful  modern  mouth-organ  in  the  streets  of 
historic  Winchester  disturbs  my  poor  mind  almost 
to  distraction,  and  the  more  I  wish  he  may  stop  the 
more  he  goeth  on,  the  little  devil ! 

I  must  leave  you  in  the  lurch  (qtcelle  expression 
choisie  I)  because  I  must  write  yet  two  million  letters, 
un  peu  moins  ou  plus,  rCy  jait  rien. 

Dear  Corvina,  please  teach  a  little  of  your  good 

charming  seriousness  to ,  and  you  will  get  an 

extra  nickel  from  me,  besides  a  crust  (this  is  a  mis- 
nomer)   of   some  of   my   hard-to:x;   bread  which  I 

*  Remenyi  refers  to  a  victory  of  the  Greeks. — Edr. 


198  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

devour  daily  since  four  hundred  and  three  days. 
That  is  a  good  record,  ain't  it? 

And  believe  me  to  be   your   most   devoted  old 
gentleman  friend, 

Edguard  Remenyi. 

12 

Starling,  O.,  Oct.  26,  1897. 

These  lines  just  to  apprise  you  that  next  Sunday  I 

will  be  with  the  P 's  at  C ,  coming  home  with 

them  from  Westerville,  where  I  play  next  Satur- 
day. II  va  sans  dire  que  dimanche  firai  voir  nos 
amis,  et  nous  chatterons  beaucoup  of  our  dear  Corvina, 
you  bet.  Avez-vous  vu  ma  chhre  femme  que  est  une 
invalide?  Avez-vous  vu  mes  en j ants?  Avez-vous 
entendu  Adrienne  ?  Because  musically  she  is  very 
talented,  etc. 

resphre  de  trouver  {pour  mot)  une  bonne  tongue 
lettre  de  votre  part.  Je  demeurerai  chez  tes  P — -'s,  mais 

comme  my  manager  will  live  at  the  C with  my 

pianist  and  songstress,  you  can  address  your  letter 
there  too.  What  are  you  doing  in  New  York? 
Write  a  long  letter.  Have  you  seen  my  fine  pictures 
at  my  home  ?  Mes  compliments  les  plus  gracieux  a 
Mile  S,    Write  to  your  friend, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 

Samedi,  Nov.  27,  1897. 
Une  nouvelle  pour  vous:  je  jourerai  en  Metro- 
politan  Opera    House    un    ou    deux    solos   avec 


NOTES  AND  LETTERS  199 

r  accompagnement  dWchestre.  Uorchestre  sera  dirigi 
par  mon  cher  et  grand  compatriote,  SeidL  Vous  et  Miss 

S ,  vous  devez  vous  y  trouver  sans  faute.    Oest 

pourune  ceuvre  de  charite  je  crois  St.  Mark's  Hospital. 
respire  qu^  il-y-aura  un  grand  public  et  trhs  repre- 
sentative, et  vous  verrez,  cMre  Corvina,ceque  your  old 
man  will  play  and  do.  Among  others  I  will  play  a 
Bridal  Song.  You  may  call  it  anything,  but  it  is  mag- 
nificently beautiful.  It  is  a  fine  musician-like  com- 
position of  the  first  crystalline  water  by  my  friend  and 
compatriot,  Max  Vogrich,  who  is  in  my  consideration 
the  greatest  now  living  genius.  His  face  is  a  mixture 
of  Chopin  and  Schiller,  not  a  bad  milange  either. 
More  of  him  when  we  will  be  together;  il  faudrait 
que  vous  fassiez  son  portrait.  His  wife  sings.  Well  ? 
Ask  Adrienne.  Die  Gottinen  im  Himmel  konnen  nicht 
schoner  singen.  Musically  she  can  put  in  one 
mortar,  Eames,  Calv6,  Melba,  and  tutti  quanti. 
But  neither  Vogrich  nor  his  wife  is  or  can  be  seen  in 
public.  And  you  know,  when  I  do  speak  on  artistic 
matters,  I  mean  it.  I  know  what  I  am  speaking  of. 
I  want  to  be  an  unerring  oraculum,  and  I  can  assure 
you  I  am  in  ninety-nine  and  one-half  cases  out  of 
a  hundred  —  and  that  one-half  which  remains  can 
also  be  thrown  in  the  totalizer. 

How  I  rejoice  to  see  you  and  to  speak  with  you; 
in  five  minutes  we  will  speak  more  good,  sensible, 
artistic  matters  than  ten  million  million  bourgeois  in 
a  million  million  years.     My  wife  (not  only  you) 


200  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

says  that  Lilian  is  charming.  Faut  mieux.  Main- 
tenant  je  vous  quitte  reluctantly. 

Your  old  man  friend, 

Edguard  Remenyi. 

14 

Dec.  13,  1897. 

Vous  Ues  une  dme  bien  nee,  ma  chere  Corvina,  de 
penser  si  gracieusement  et  aussi  assidiXment  b.  votre 
vieil  ami  Remenyi,  Soyez  convaingue  que  je  ne 
pense  pas  mains  a  vous,  et  rien  au  monde  ne  me 
ferait  plus  de  plaisir  que  de  vous  voir  arriver  a  votre 
noble  but — du  reste  avec  votre  serieux  et  indomitable 
volonte  vous  y  arriverez  —  certes,  que  vous  y  arriverez, 
Tai  ecrit  hier  une  bonne  missive  h  votre  chhre  m^re, 
parlant  trts  mat  (?)  de  vous. 

The  musicale  will  take  place  next  Wednesday. 
There  will  be  no  more  than  ten  or  fifteen  people, 
and  music  for  fifteen  millions,  but  this  musicale 
can  and  will  be  repeated  with  a  vengeance  for  Cor- 
vina and  Miss ,  rest  assured  of  this.    And  now 

you  have  that  exact  measure.  I  will  stop  and  say  au 
revoir  to  you  for  next  Thursday,  partaking  then  of 
my  lacteal  dinner  in  the  charming  society  of  two 
golden  brick  girls. 

Votre  ami  devout, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 

P.  S. —  Hier  soir,  en  vous  Scoutant  parler  fetais  trbs 
charmS  de  vos  apergus,  et  si  favais  trente  et  trois  ans 
de  mains  vous  seriez  une  Loreley  pour  le  Vieux  (moi). 


NOTES  AND  LETTERS  201 

Mais  comme  Us  trente  et  trois  arts  ne  se  laissent  pas 
dwindle  down  —  vous  Ues  une  ravissante  Vision  pour 
le  reste  de  mes  jours,  and  don't  you  forgettez-vous. 
Toujours  votre  ami,  the  old  gentleman, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 

New  York,  Dec.  16, 1897. 
Chere  Corvina: — 

Votre  lettre  est  une  chej-ff ceuvre  de  care,  de  bontS,  de 
prevoyance,  de  bons  conseils,  et  d^autres  belles  qualitis, 
et  dans  chaque  ligne  je  pouvais  m'apercevoir  que  vous 
Ues  mon  ami,  Vous  n^aurez  pas  pu  \aire  mieux  que 
vous  n^avez  jaiL  N^en  parlons  plus,  Vous  avez 
fait  ce  que  vous  avez  pu  faire  —  non  —  vous  avez  jait 
plus.    Oest  la  vraie  verite  ou  la  viriti  vraie, 

Je  viendrai  prendre  demain  le  violon,  qu^en  dites- 
vous?  Ecrivez-moi  un  mot  si  je  fais  bien  d^apporter 
le  violon. 

Toujours  —  et  tout  h  vous, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 
16 
Buenos  Ayres,  Jan.  19,  1887.* 
I  am  on  my  way  to  Mauritius.     Of  course  you 
think  I  have  forgotten  you  and  your  good  wife  and 
all  my  friends  in  Benton  Harbor.    No!    But  since 
I  saw  you  last  time  I  went  through  the  U.  S.  down 
to  California;  left  on  the  steamer  for  Honolulu, 
Sandwich  Islands;  then  to  Australia, crossing  the  Paci- 
fic Ocean;    then  to  New  Zealand   and   Tasmania; 

^Written  to  Mr.  M.  S.  Owen. 


202  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

then  back  again  to  Australia  and  Queensland  and 
through  the  Torres  Straits  to  Java;  then  through  the 
Straits  to  Burmah,  India,  Ceylon,  back  to  the  Straits; 
then  up  to  China  and  Japan,  back  to  Manila,  back 
to  the  Straits,  and  am  now  on  my  way  to  Mauritius; 
then  to  Cape  Colony,  and  from  there  to  South 
America.  If  you  don't  call  this  travelling,  I  don't 
know  what  you  really  can  call  it. 

I  saw  wonder  things, —  wonderfully  wonderful 
things,  and  made  a  most  tremendous  collection  of 
the  most  valuable  objects,  mostly  presents.  Oh,  if 
you  could  see  all  those  things!  I  could  fill  twelve 
houses  like  yours  chock-full.  Now  be  a  good  boy 
and  write  me  a  letter  of  two  hundred  thousand  lines, 
if  you  will.  So  much  the  better.  Register  your 
letter,  otherwise  I  never  will  get  it,  and  keep  me  in 
your  good  memory  and  friendship. 

Edguard  Remenyi. 

October  25,  1897.* 
I  have  just  read  of  the  railroad  horror  on  the  Hud- 
son River,  almost  in  the  suburbs  of  New  York.  You 
don't  need  to  go  to  the  Far  West,  or  to  the  Colorado 
canons  for  wrecks.  Besides,  there  are  other  wrecks 
too,  and  even  more  serious.  See  rather  the  Cas- 
tilian  pride's  wreck!  What  a  pitiful  spectacle  the 
Spanish  wreck  presents  in  its  stupid,  blind  pride! 
She  wrecks  herself  blindly  in  broad  daylight. 

^Written  to  Mr.  M.  S.  Owen. 


REMENYFS  LAST  PHOTOGRAPH 
Taken  with  Madame  Brehany,  the  singer,  in  October  or  November,  1897 


p 


I 


I 


XVII 

CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN  ROBERT  G. 

INGERSOLL  AND  EDOUARD 

REMENYI,  1880-1898* 

I 

August,  1880. 

THIS  week  the  great  violinist,  Edouard  Remenyi, 
visited  me  at  Cape  Ann,  Massachusetts,  and  for 
three  days  delighted  and  entranced  the  fortunate 
idlers  of  the  beach.  He  played  nearly  all  the  time, 
night  and  day,  seemingly  carried  away  with  his  own 
music.  Among  the  many  selections  given  were  the 
Andante  from  the  tenth  sonata  in  E  flat,  also  from 
the  twelfth  sonata  in  G  minor,  by  Mozart.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  wonderful  playing  of  the  selections 
from  the  twelfth  sonata.  A  hush  of  death  fell  upon 
the  audience,  and  when  he  ceased  tears  fell  upon 
applauding  hands.  Then  followed  the  "  Elegie " 
by  Ernst,  then  "  The  Ideal  Dance,"  composed  by 
himself  —  a  fairy  piece,  full  of  wings  and  glancing 
feet,  moonlight  and  melody,  where  fountains  fall  in 

*The  Editors  are  indebted  to  Mrs.  Robert  G.  Ingersoll  for  her  kindness 
in  contributing  the  following  correspondence  between  her  husband  and  Re- 
menyiy  which  has  been  preserved  by  her  daughter ^  Miss  Maude  Ingersoll. 

203 


204  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

showers  of  pearl,  and  waves  of  music  die  in  sands 
of  gold.  Then  came  the  "  Barcarole "  of  Schu- 
bert, and  he  played  this  with  infinite  spirit,  in  a  kind 
of  inspired  frenzy,  as  though  music  itself  were  mad 
with  joy;  then  the  grand  sonata  in  G,  in  three  move- 
ments, by  Beethoven. 

R.  G.  Ingersoll. 

2 

'  Nov.  24,  1891. 
My  dear  Remenyi:  — 

A  thousand  thanks  for  your  good  letter !  We  will 
not  trouble  you  until  after  the  concert.  Then  we 
want  you  to  come  home  with  us.  We  will  put  you 
carefully  in  the  carriage  and  bring  you  to  400  Fifth 
Avenue.  We  will  have  something  to  eat  and  a 
small  drop  to  drink,  including  Hathorne  water  of 
the  strongest  brand,  Saratoga  Sec,  of  the  vintage  of 
1833.  Then  we  will  take  you  where  you  want  to  go, 
so  you  can  have  all  the  sleep  you  need  before  start- 
ing for  Syracuse.  We  all  hope  that  you  will  have  a 
splendid  audience  Sunday  night.  Don't  play  any 
better  than  you  used  to  —  we  could  not  stand  it.  In 
my  mind  the  old  tones  are  still  rising  and  falling, 
still  throbbing,  pleading,  beseeching,  imploring, 
wailing,  like  the  lost;  rising  winged  and  triumphant, 
superb  and  victorious,  then  caressing,  whispering 
every  thought  of  love;  intoxicated,  delirious  with  joy, 
fainting  with  passion,  fading  to  silence  as  softly  and 
imperceptibly  as  consciousness  is  lost  in  sleep. 

R.  G.  Ingersoll. 


CORRESPONDENCE  205 

3 

Dec.  27,  '97. 
My  dear  Remenyi:  — 

I  am  delighted  that  you  and  your  daughter  are  go- 
ing to  be  with  us  on  New  Year's  eve.  We  will  put 
the  Old  Year  in  his  coffin,  and  we  will  rock  the  cradle 
of  the  New.  I  know  that  we  will  all  be  happy  — 
happy  to  see  you  again.  Give  my  best  regards  to 
Mrs.  Remenyi.  If  she  is  well  enough,  you  must  in- 
duce her  to  come.  We  would  all  be  glad  to  welcome 
her.  Yours  always, 

R.  G.  Ingersoll. 

4 

Dec.  27,  '97. 
My  dear  Remenyi:  — 

This  is  letter  No.  2.  I  forgot  to  say  in  the  first 
that  we  would  have  baked  apples,  milk,  and  bread 
like  the  soles  of  shoes.  You  can  get  fat.  Apples 
and  Art,  Bran  and  Brain,  Milk  and  Music, —  what 
a  blessed  Trinity!        Yours  always, 

R.  G.  Ingersoll. 

5 
Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  Nov.  30, 1891. 

After  the  Ingersollean  heaven!  There  now,  so 
much  to  begin  with,  my  dear  Ingersoll.  And  now  I 
have  two  hundred  million  requests  to  make  to  you, 
but  have  no  time  to  write  them  all  down.  I  will  just 
mention  a  few: 

I.  Go  to  SeidPs — or  give  him  a  rendezvous  some- 
where; and  this  rendezvous  idea  must  come  from  you 


2o6  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

and  not  at  all  from  me,  having  received  a  letter  from 
me  concerning  my  playing  sometimes  at  his  glorious 
concerts.  I  must  play  there,  and  here  too,  coMe  que 
coMe;  by  all  means  it  must  be  as  soon  as  possible,  and 
if  I  have  to  come  to  New  York  from  Pekin  expressly 
for  that  concert.  Listen!  I  will  write  to-day  to  my 
manager,  Mr.  George  Hathaway,  Redpath  Lyceum 
Bureau,  a  very  good  man  and  most  reliable.  Will 
tell  him  all  that  happened,  and  how  it  happened,  and 
also  that  I  must  play  there  at  all  prices.  Of  course 
Hathaway  must  know  nothing  of  it,  that  you,  the 
Jupiter,  do  speak  with  Seidl,  otherwise  he  would  not 
move  in  the  matter.  See?  Now  you  understand 
my  situation.  I  am  fully  prepared  for  the  —  for  that 
musical  fray;  as  prepared  and  as  fully  armed  as 
Minerva  was  when  she  came  out  fully  armed  from 
Jupiter;  and  that  it  did  not  happen  now  does  not 
matter.  But  it  must  happen.  I  want  to  impress 
this  upon  my  Jupiter  Ingersoll  friend;  and  now  you 
know  your  duty  concerning  this  matter.  Of  course 
I  will  write  to-day  to  Hathaway.  He  must  move  in 
the  matter.  In  fact,  I  have  received  this  very  moment 
this  very  wire:  "Have  offered  New  York,  Dec.  20 
or  27;  deeply  regret  the  mishap  and  hope  to  make 
satisfactory  arrangements.  Redpath  Lyceum  Bu- 
reau." 

You  see  he  moves  in  the  matter,  but  it  must  be  the 
Jupiter  who  moves  in  this  matter.  Now  I  have 
said  all  I  had  to  say,  and  I  am  fully  understood. 


CORRESPONDENCE  207 

2.  Have  you  cabled  to  my  wife?  Of  course  you 
have. 

3.  Another  request:  please  do  me  another  favor. 
My  twins,  boy  and  girl,  Tibor  and  Adrienne,  eigh- 
teen years  old,  will  know  about  you.  Please  send 
them,  with  a  short  dedicatory  line  from  your  pent-in 
memory,  a  souvenir  of  the  ever-to-be-remembered 
evening  of  the  twenty-ninth  of  November,  spent  at 
your  blessed  house  —  a  photographic  album  of  New 
York,  New  York  with  all  its  views.  This  would  be 
awfully  nice  of  you.  Do  so!  Now  I  end,  expecting 
your  good  lines  as  an  answer,  and  with  all  my  love 
to  all,  from  the  oldest  down  to  the  three  or  four 
months  old  one,  and  hugging  them  all,  and  with  all 
kinds  of  affection  from 

Your  old  fiddler  friend, 

Edouard  Remenyi. 
Later  — You  must  do  something  more,  more-er 
for  me.    There  is  no  rest  for  the  wicked.    But  what 
a  musical  satisfaction  will  I  give  you  for  all  your 
goodness,  with  a  vengeance!* 

*0w  the  occasion  of  Remenyi' s  concert  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House 
in  New  York,  in  which  he  played  with  Seidl,  I  had  dined  with  him  at  his 
house,  where,  surrounded  by  his  family,  he  partook,  with  his  usual  calm 
satisfaction,  of  the  hard  bread,  apples,  and  milk  which  he  believed  so  bene- 
ficial as  a  diet,  and  to  which  he  attributed  his  remarkable  vigor,  the  firmness 
0}  his  muscle,  and  the  strength  of  his  arm.  This,  he  affirmed,  enabled  him 
to  practise  so  many  hours  and  to  endure  so  much.  As  the  time  drew  near 
for  his  departure  for  the  opera-house,  he  hastily  collected  the  music  he  was  to 
render,  and  bidding  Mme.  Remenyi  an  affectionate  au  revoir,  drove  off. 
Later,  with  his  pretty  daughter  Adrienne  and  son  Tibor,  I  watched  Remenyi, 
across  the  stretch  of  the  crowded  opera-house,  as  he  took  his  place  easily  — 
a  small  figure,  surrounded  by  the  great  orchestra,  which  was  conducted  by  his 


2o8  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

6 

(Undated) 
My  dear  Grand  Man:  — 

If  you  want  to  be  blown  up  —  down  —  to  be  pul- 
verized, to  be  electrified,  to  be  flabbergasted,  to  be 
electrically  astonished,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  come^ 
and  your  family,  to  35  South  Fifth  Avenue  next 
Wednesday  at  half-past  three  p.  m.,  and  you  will  see 
things  of  which  even  you  scarcely  dreamt.  Nikola 
Tesla,  the  great  electrician,  asked  me  to  wTite  you, 
so  I  did  myself  the  honor.  I  woidd  have  come  down 
myself  to  go  with  you,  but  can't  do  it,  being  obliged 
to  go  to  Tesla  next  Wednesday  with  Dr.  Antonin 
Dvorak  who  wants  also  to  see  them  experiments,  but 
who  is  such  a  practical  (?)  gentleman  that  he  cannot 
even  find  his  own  house  on  a  clear  day.  Now  I 
have  done  my  loving  duty. 

I  am  your  old  fiddler  friend  and  admirer, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 

^'dear  friend  Seidll"  The  programme  was  long  and  difficult,  btU  the  violin 
0}  Remenyi  lifted  its  voice  as  that  of  some  great  prima-donna  —  its  tones 
soaring,  true  and  clear,  above  the  tremendous  volume  of  the  entire  orchestra. 
The  striking  point,  however,  came  in  the  next  number  of  the  programme, 
which  was  executed  by  Remenyi  with  the  support  of  an  accompanist  and 
only  a  few  pieces  of  the  orchestra.  The  fire  of  his  playing,  the  brilliancy 
of  his  tone  and  technique,  were  such  that,  surpassing  himself,  he  so  filled 
that  immense  building  it  was  only  on  second  thought  one  realized  that  the 
manifold  voices  of  the  orchestra,  which  had  swelled  out  in  the  previous  num- 
bers, were  no  longer  with  him!  Afterwards,  when  the  storms  of  applause 
were  over  and  he  had  joined  us,  he  gave  the  characteristic  shrug  of  his 
broad  shoulders,  and  made  use  of  the  odd  little  expression,  his  usual  form 
of  expressing  any  satisfaction  in  his  own  tours  de  force:  "  Well,  how  did 
ii  go?    I  played  like  a  brick  —  yes?  "  G.  D.  K. 


CORRESPONDENCE  209 

7 
Salt  Lake  City,  April  20,  1893. 

It  is  a  good  while  that  I  did  not  write  to  my  dearest, 
dear  Jupiter.  I  would  have  two  hundred  thousand 
things  to  write  and  say  to  you ;  suffice  one  thing — and 
that  covers  the  whole  ground  —  that  you  are  in  the 
very  centre  of  my  heart,  soul,  or  souPs  heart.  Take 
your  choice,  and  don't  pay  your  money.  I  hear 
from  my  savage  mathematician  son  that  he  had  the 
honor  and  pleasure  to  be  with  you.  I  wish  I  had 
been  in  his  skin. 

How  is  the  grand  young  man's  health?  I  hope 
it  is  O.  K.  Am  on  my  way  to  California,  Oregon, 
Washington,  Idaho,  Montana,  and  to  the  Ki-Ki-ri- 
Ki-Ki-Ko-Ko-Ko  also.  If  you  think  it  the  proper 
thing  to  do,  send  me  two  lines  for  your  friends  at 
Butte  and  Helena.  Will  be  there  one  or  two  days, 
all  in  all.  If  you  think  it  not  proper,  don't.  Love 
to  all. 

From  your  O.  G.  fiddler  friend  and  devotee  and 
admirer,  Ed.  Remenyi. 

8 
St.  Cloud,  Minn.,  Jan.  22,  1893. 

MON  TRES  CHER  JUPITER:  — 

I  am  sorry  not  to  be  in  Chicago  when  you  give 
your  Bob  Burns  lecture.  Sorry  I  am,  sorry  I  am, 
that  I  see  so  little  of  you  during  this  season,  and  I 
am  awfully  sorry  not  to  fiddle  something  grand  with 


2IO  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

the  great  Seidl.  But  I  have  something  really  great 
to  fiddle,  and  that  is  Dvdrak's  violin  concerto  in  its 
entirety  (three  parts),  and  greatly  (I  believe,  at  least,) 
I  do  fiddle  this  concerto.  Sorry  I  am,  and  I  am 
sorry,  and  that  is  all,  but  I  am  not  sorry  but  glad 
that  I  keep  you  right  warmly  in  my  esteem,  admira- 
tion, and  love.  You  leave  Chicago  probably  on 
Tuesday  and  I  will  arrive  there  on  Thursday.  Too 
bad!  Please  leave  word  if  you  have  received  this 
scribble  of  mine.    With  love  to  all. 

Your  old  gentleman  fiddler  friend, 

Edouard  Remenyi. 

9 

(Undated) 
On  the  twenty-third  of  April  I  will  finish  my  con- 
cert tour,  one  hundred  and  seventy  consecutive  good 
concerts  to  my  record,  and  finding  myself  in  my 
wineless,  meatless,  smokeless,  state  of  bliss  and  by 
no  means  abstemiousness  or  asceticism.  I  hope  that 
the  whole  holy  family  at  400  is  all  O.  K.  in  wineful, 
meatful,  smokeful  state  of  bliss,  and  that  them  good 
folks  will  receive  me  with  (h)open  (h)arms  (no 
harm  done),  on  my  return  to  New  York  toward  the 
end  of  April.    With  best  love  to  all. 

Your  old  fiddler  friend  and  admirer, 

Ed.  Remenyi. 
P.  S. —  A  letter  from  IngersoU  is  always  welcome 
at  the  old  Corner  Church. 


PART  IV 

PRESS  TRIBUTES,  LIST  OF  COMPOSITIONS, 

ETC. 


PART  IV 


PRESS  TRIBUTES,  LIST  OF  COMPOSITIONS, 

ETC. 


MR.  MAPLESON'S  benefit  concert,  as  usual, 
took  place  at  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  as  us- 
ual consisted  of  an  unlimited  supply  of  miscellaneous 
music,  drawn  mainly  from  Italian  sources  and  per- 
formed in  approved  fashion  by  the  leading  members 
of  Her  Majesty's  Theatre.  There  was,  however,  one 
striking  exception  to  the  ordinary  routine.  The 
audience,  or  at  least  its  younger  components,  became 
here  for  the  first  time  acquainted  with  an  artist  whose 
undeniable  power  must  have  been  a  surprise  to 
many.  M.  Edouard  Remenyi,  the  Hungarian  vio- 
linist, has,  it  is  true,  a  widespread  —  one  may  say 
a  European  —  reputation,  but  it  resembles  in  its 
character  that  of  some  of  our  non-exhibiting  painters. 
Most  EngHsh  amateurs  have  heard  the  name  of 
Remenyi,  and  know  that  he  ranks  amongst  the  first 
of  living  vioHnists,  but  few  can  vouch  for  this  general 
impression  by  their  personal  experience.  The  artist 
himself  is  largely  responsible  for  this  state  of  things. 
For  nearly  thirteen  years  he  has  not  been  in  England, 

213 


214  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

and  even  his  present  visit  to  this  country  was  not 
originally  made  with  a  view  to  public  performance. 
It  was  only  the  almost  sensational  effect  M.  Remenyi 
produced  in  private  circles  that  caused  him  to  accept 
Mr.  Mapleson's  engagement  on  Saturday  last.  On 
that  occasion  his  success  was  brilliant.  But  the 
transept  of  the  Crystal  Palace  is  not  the  right  place 
to  display  qualities  of  tone,  nor  a  fantasia  on  themes 
from  "  The  Huguenots  "  (chosen  by  M.  Remenyi  in 
accordance  with  the  general  character  of  the  concert) 
the  right  composition  to  throw  light  on  the  higher, 
intellectual  side  of  his  style.  It  is  a  brilliant  piece, 
full  of  varied  effects,  and  in  the  "  Romance  "  from 
the  first  act  much  sentiment  may  be  introduced,  but 
the  whole  conception  is  not  of  a  kind  in  which  a  first- 
rate  artist  would  show  at  his  best.  Such  an  artist  M. 
Remenyi  is,  and  as  such  he  will  be  acknowledged 
beyond  a  doubt.     .     .     . 

As  an  artist,  M.  Remenyi  combines  perfect  mastery 
over  the  technical  difficulties  of  his  instrument 
with  a  strongly  pronounced  poetic  individuality.  His 
whole  soul  is  in  his  playing,  and  his  impulse  carries 
him  away  with  it  as  he  warms  to  his  task,  the  im- 
pression produced  on  the  audience  being,  conse- 
quently, on  an  ascending  scale.  He  never  tires,  and 
one  never  tires  of  him.  Nothing  more  impressive 
could  well  be  imagined  than  hearing  and  seeing  M. 
Remenyi  perform  one  of  the  stormier  pieces  of 
Chopin  transferred  by  him  from  the  pianoforte  to 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  215 

the  violin,  or  a  short  fantasia  of  his  own  composition, 
aptly  called  the  "  Heroic."  But  tenderer  accents  are 
not  wanting.  The  nocturnes  of  Chopin  or  of  our 
own  Field  are  given  with  the  tenderest  dreaminess, 
interrupted  at  intervals  only  by  more  impassioned 
strains.  His  rendering  also  of  Schubert's  well-known 
"  Barcarole  "  is  a  masterpiece  of  sustained  legato 
playing.  Another  important  feature  of  M.  Re- 
menyi's  style  is  the  national  element.  He  strongly 
maintains  against  Liszt  the  genuineness  of  Hun- 
garian music,  and  has  shown  himself  thoroughly 
imbued  with  the  spirit  of  that  music  by  writing 
several  "  Hungarian  melodies,"  which  have  been 
mistaken  for  popular  tunes  and  actually  adopted 
as  such  by  other  composers.  The  same  half-Eastern 
spirit  is  observable  in  the  strong  rhythmical  color- 
ing of  M.  Remenyi's  execution,  seldom  or  never 
attained  in  its  original  raciness  by  artists  of  Teu- 
tonic origin.  Such  are  the  most  striking  features 
of  the  vioHnist's  style,  but  it  must  not  be  thought 
that  these  quahties  debar  him  from  the  serious  and 
congenial  interpretation  of  classic  masterpieces.  His 
repertoire  comprises  the  names  of  Beethoven,  Men- 
delssohn, and  Schumann,  as  well  as  those  of  Chopin 
and  Paganini. 

—  London  Examiner,  July  28,  1876. 

M.  Riviere's  promenade    concerts   at    Covent 
Garden  Theatre  have  thus  far  been  attended  with 


2i6  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

great  success.  The  miscellaneous  selection  which 
formed  the  second  part  of  last  night's  concert  was 
chiefly  remarkable  for  the  splendid  violin-playing  of 
Herr  Remenyi,  who  introduced  his  own  fantasia  on 
themes  from  "  Les  Huguenots."  The  composition 
is  skilfully  and  tastefully  constructed,  and  afforded 
occasions  for  the  display  of  Herr  Remenyi's  powers 
as  a  cantabile  player,  and  as  a  brilliant  executant  of 
bravura  passages.  The  contralto  air,  "  Nobil  Don- 
na," and  the  tenor  air,  "  Ah,  Piu  Bianco,"  were 
"  sung  "  by  him  on  the  violin  with  a  purity  of  phras- 
ing and  a  grace  of  expression  equalled  by  few  operatic 
vocalists,  and  his  execution  of  florid  passages  was 
simply  marvellous.  On  several  occasions  during  his 
masterly  performance  the  audience  manifested  their 
delight  by  bursts  of  cheering,  and  at  the  conclusion 
the  demands  for  an  encore  were  enthusiastic  and 
unanimous. 

—  London  Globe,  Oct.  12,  1878. 

The  first  "  classical "  Wednesday  night  at  M. 
Riviere's  concerts  calls  for  a  brief  notice  on  our  part. 
Among  the  solo  performances  of  the  first  part  that  of 
M.  Edouard  Remenyi,  the  Hungarian  violinist,  de- 
serves special  mention.  As  regards  volume  and 
beauty  of  tone,  M.  Remenyi  ranks  with  the  first 
masters  of  his  instrument,  and  his  technical  perfection 
is  second  to  few.  In  addition  to  this  he  has  all 
the  verve  and  rhythmical  decision  peculiar  to  his 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  217 

nationality,  and  in  the  rendering  of  his  native  Hun- 
garian airs  he  is  absolutely  unsurpassable.  On  the 
present  occasion,  however,  he  showed  that  his  talent 
is  not  confined  to  one  specialty,  and  his  performance 
of  Spohr's  eighth  concerto  for  the  violin  was  full  of 
breadth  and  classical  repose.  We  expect  to  meet 
with  M.  Remenyi's  name  in  many  concert  pro- 
grammes during  the  coming  season. 

—  London  Times,  Oct.  10,  1878. 

The  appearance  of  distinguished  violinists  this 
season  before  New  York  audiences  has  been  among 
the  leading  musical  events.  Last  evening,  notwith- 
standing the  threatening  weather,  Steinway  Hall 
was  crowded  with  a  brilliant  assemblage,  desirous  of 
witnessing  the  dehut  of  Edouard  Remenyi.  How  a 
violinist  looks  is  always  very  interesting,  for  between 
the  instrument  and  the  performer  we  are  apt  to  create 
certain  imaginary  sympathies.  Remenyi  for  all  the 
world  looks  like  some  good  French  abhi  who  could 
better  intone  a  mass  than  draw  dehcate  and  bewitch- 
ing tones  from  his  instrument.  This  artist's  manner, 
as  far  as  pose  goes,  is  exceedingly  quiet  and  deliber- 
ate. Once  the  instrument  is  in  the  violinist's  hands 
the  somewhat  lethargic  face  of  the  performer  changes, 
though  imperceptibly.  His  eyes  rarely  look  at  the 
audience.  Entirely  absorbed  in  the  music  he  is  pro- 
ducing, his  whole  being  seems  to  be  centred  on  his 
instrument.  It  was  but  necessary  to  listen  to  the  first 


2i8  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

few  bars  of  Mendelssohn's  concerto,  to  be  satisfied 
that  the  instrumentalist  was  a  virtuoso  of  the  first 
order.  Remenyi's  tones  are  wonderfully  clear  and 
delicate,  and  have  a  sonority  which  is  absolutely  per- 
fect. One  marked  peculiarity  of  his  style  is  his 
method  of  bowing.  Effects  of  the  most  minute  pre- 
cision are  produced  by  the  archet  touching  the  strings 
while  the  bow  does  not  move  apparently  an  eighth  of 
an  inch.  When  the  bow  is  put  on  and  taken  off  can- 
not be  seen.  It  is  the  wonderful  sentiment,  the  pas- 
sion, the  feeling,  which  distinguishes  Remenyi  from 
any  other  violinist  we  have  yet  heard  in  the  United 
States.  This  instrumentalist  had  given  him  last 
evening  no  less  than  three  entrees  in  the  programme. 
Mendelssohn's  concerto,  the  andante  and  the  rondo ; 
three  solos  for  the  violin  (the  nocturne  in  E  flat  of 
Chopin,  with  the  mazurka  and  "  Hungarian  melo- 
dies "),  concluding  with  two  strange  capriccios  of 
Paganini,  Nos.  21  and  24.  The  well-known  Men- 
delssohn concerto  was,  as  to  the  andante,  produced 
by  Remenyi  in  rather  slower  time  than  we  have  been 
accustomed  to  hear  it.  We  suppose  this  concerto, 
considered  properly  as  belonging  to  the  modem 
classic  school,  was  introduced  in  the  programme  in 
order  that  a  critical  audience  should  at  the  start 
become  assured  of  the  power  of  the  violinist.  It  was 
played  with  wonderful  charm  and  exquisite  feeling, 
and  at  its  conclusion  the  performer  was  applauded  to 
the  echo,  and  recalled  four  times.    Familiar  as  we  all 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  219 

are  with  Chopin,  Remenyi's  production  of  this  great 
master  was  a  revelation.  If  the  nocturne  was  fully 
appreciated,  the  mazurka,  played  with  an  abandon 
and  passion,  brought  from  the  foreign  element  in  the 
house  the  wildest  tokens  of  delight.  The  "  Melodie 
Hongroise  "  was  equally  well  rendered.  Here  the 
apparently  quiet  nature  of  the  violinist  seemed  to  lose 
its  restraint,  and  as  the  national  lyric  was  brought 
singing  from  the  strings  of  the  Stradivarius  the  effect 
was  magical.  For  an  encore,  Schubert's  "  Serenade" 
was  played.  The  peculiar  capriccios  of  Paganini 
were  most  charmingly  rendered,  and  a  whole  flood 
of  delicate  harmonies  was  produced. 

—  New  York  Times,  Nov.  12,  1878. 

The  expectations  raised  concerning  M.  Edouard 
Remenyi's  talent  as  a  violin  virtuoso  —  expectations, 
be  it  said,  which  rose  considerably  above  the  plane 
of  agreeable  anticipation,  inasmuch  as  Liszt,  The- 
ophile  Gautier,  and  the  leading  music  critics  of 
France  and  England  have  long  been  unanimous  in 
his  praise  —  were  all  fulfilled  by  his  performance  at 
last  evening's  concert  in  Steinway  Hall.  His  appear- 
ance was  greeted  with  uncommon  enthusiasm  by 
an  audience  which  filled  the  house  to  overflowing, 
and  before  the  first  part  of  the  concert  ended  it  was 
clear  that  the  newcomer  had  scored  a  great  artistic 
and  popular  success.  His  interpretation  of  the  Men- 
delssohn  concerto  was  followed  by  four  recalls,  in 


220  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

which  cheers  mingled  with  plaudits,  and  the  minor 
pieces  which  he  subsequently  rendered  literally  took 
the  spectators  by  storm.  M.  Remenyi  is  not  only 
a  master  of  technique,  but  a  violinist  in  whose  play- 
ing sentiment,  elegance,  poetry,  and  expressiveness  are 
unusually  conspicuous'  elements.  His  instrument  is 
a  palette  of  sound,  on  which  every  color  and  shade 
lie  within  summons  of  his  magic  bow.  Where  his 
work  calls  for  pure  cantabile,  his  execution  is  appar- 
ently of  the  utmost  simplicity;  where  the  theme  is 
embroidered  by  the  composer's  fancy,  it  takes  on  a 
picturesque  grace  which  adds  largely  to  its  effective- 
ness. In  the  lovely  adagio  of  the  Mendelssohn 
concerto,  for  example,  in  which  he  took  the  time 
much  slower  than  less  impressible  violinists  are  in- 
clined to  do,  his  manner  was  one  of  unimpeachable 
tranquillity  and  dignity;  in  the  vivacious  rondo,  on 
the  contrary,  his  bow  arm  appeared  to  catch  something 
of  the  fairylike  designs  of  the  composer,  and  the 
bow  fairly  danced  over  the  strings  with  a  lightness 
and  playfulness  befitting  a  frolic  of  elves  in  a  moon- 
lit glade.  Some  points  of  Remenyi's  playing,  while 
their  beauty  and  eloquence  were  plain  enough  not  to 
require  analysis,  deserve  attention.  That  his  tone 
is  of  exquisite  sweetness  goes  without  saying,  but  it 
is  particularly  beautiful  from  the  fact  that  the  per- 
former's power  to  sustain  it  is  practically  unlimited. 
The  change  of  bowing  —  from  an  up  bow  to  a  down 
bow,  and  vice  versa,  can  never  be  detected  by  the  ear; 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  221 

and  thus  some  marvellous  effects  are  obtained  by  the 
virtuoso.  Then  Remenyi's  staccato  is  of  unequalled 
brilliancy  of  timbre  and  evenness,  and  his  use  of  the 
bow  in  producing  it  —  the  length  of  hair  em- 
ployed being  perceptible  —  is  as  delightful  to  the  eye 
as  its  tones  are  pleasing  to  the  ear.  It  seems  a  pity, 
however,  to  dwell  upon  technicahties  in  speaking  of 
such  a  performance  as  the  Hungarian  artist  suppHed 
last  night.  A  record  of  its  charm  is  of  far  easier 
preparation,  and  doubtless  of  more  general  interest. 
— ^New  York  Evening  Express,  Nov.  12,  1878. 

Edguard  Remenyi,  the  famous  Hungarian  vio- 
linist, made  his  first  bow  to  an  American  audience  on 
Monday  evening  in  Steinway  Hall.  Every  seat  was 
filled,  and  among  the  interested  Hsteners  were  many 
of  the  countrymen  of  the  great  artist.  The  pro- 
gramme was  arranged  apparently  with  a  view  to 
show  his  mastery  of  all  styles,  containing,  as  it 
did,  compositions  by  Mendelssohn,  Chopin,  and  Pag- 
anini.  He  began  by  playing  two  movements  of  the 
concerto  by  Mendelssohn,  and,  as  he  walked  on  the 
stage  in  a  quiet,  unassuming  way,  he  was  greeted 
with  a  hearty  welcome.  Simply  in  a  musical  sense 
Wieniawski  has  played  the  andante  better,  and  Ca- 
milla Urso  and  Joseph  White  have  done  as  well  in  the 
rondo,  but  none  of  them  could  equal  the  grace  and 
delicacy  of  Remenyi's  playing.  His  second  selection 
was  a  group  of  three  pieces  —  nocturne  in  E  flat, 


222  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Op.  9,  No.  2,  Chopin;  "Melodies  Heroiques"  and 
"  Lyriques  Hongroises,"  transcribed  by  Remenyi, 
and  Chopin's  mazurka,  Op.  7,  No.  i.  The  nocturne 
gave  an  opportunity  for  a  display  of  the  merits  of 
his  playing,  and  was  a  revelation.  His  tone  is  sym- 
pathetic, penetrating,  nervous,  tremulous  with  feel- 
ing, yet  not  always  of  a  perfect  intonation,  nor  yet  so 
full  and  broad  as  that  of  a  great  artist  we  have 
lately  heard,  and  whose  very  opposite  he  is.  In  the 
nocturne  his  phrasing,  the  exquisite  delicacy  and  grace 
of  his  execution,  and  the  tender  and  loving  treatment 
of  the  melody  were  simply  perfect.  The  impression 
he  had  produced  was  deepened  by  the  Hungarian 
melodies  and  the  Chopin  mazurka,  the  audience 
being  aroused  to  a  state  of  enthusiastic  excitement. 
After  several  recalls  he  played  Schubert's  "  Sere- 
nade "  with  much  sweetness  and  eager  intensity, 
but  with  a  tendency  to  over-ornamentation.  The 
concert  closed  with  two  of  Paganini's  capriccios  — 
the  first  a  slow  movement  designed  to  show  the 
artist's  tone  and  strength  of  repose,  and  the  second 
a  brilliant  show  piece,  containing  a  difficult  passage 
in  harmonies,  full  of  turns  and  other  grace  notes, 
which  was  splendidly  done.  His  repertory  is  very 
large,  covering  apparently  almost  the  whole  field  of 
violin  music,  from  the  severer  works  of  Bach,  Beeth- 
oven, Mozart,  and  Mendelssohn,  down  to  those  of 
the  later  violin  composers.  Besides  these  he  plays 
a  number  of  transcriptions  of  his  own  of  all  sorts. 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  223 

Chopin's  nocturnes,  mazurkas,  and  waltzes.  Field's 
nocturnes,  Schubert's  songs,  and  a  vast  number  of 
selections  from  operas  of  all  sorts,  from  Mozart  to 
Wagner.  His  rendering  of  Paganini's  two  capric- 
cios,  Nos.  21  and  24,  was  brilliant,  and  the  mazurka 
(Chopin)  elicited  the  wildest  enthusiasm.  In  fact, 
everything  the  artist  played  was  greeted  with  the 
most  exuberant  tokens  of  satisfaction  and  deHght. 
—New  York  Musical  Times,  Nov.  16, 1878. 

In  appearance  this  player  has  the  semblance  of 
a  priest  rather  than  that  of  an  artist,  although  a 
phrenologist  would  find  the  frontal  development  of 
his  cranium  remarkably  strong  in  the  musical  faculty. 
In  stature  the  artist  is  short,  in  figure  stocky.  With 
his  style  of  playing  physique  is  all-important,  for  it 
is  the  embodiment  of  suppressed  intensity,  fired,  in 
flashes,  with  the  wildest  abandon.  Comparisons  will, 
of  course,  at  this  time  be  sought  of  the  Hungarian 
with  the  German  artist  who  so  recently  preceded 
him.  Such  cannot  fairly  or  satisfactorily  be  made. 
Wilhelmj's  school  is  in  the  lofty  mould  of  the  clas- 
sics; Remenyi's  is  of  form  and  kind  less  classic,  but 
absolutely  his  own.  His  face  marks  him  as  sui 
generis,  and  his  playing  is  the  reflex  of  the  subtle 
power,  the  matchless  self-command,  that  speaks 
from  his  eloquent  eye  and  lurks  about  the  comers  of 
his  expressive  mouth.  He  is  a  master  of  his  instru- 
ment, and  no  other  violinist  has  ever  inspired  greater 


224  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

confidence,  or  shown  such  absolute  certainty  of 
attack.  His  rendering  of  piano  passages  is  ex- 
quisitely delicate.  His  cantabile  playing  is  singu- 
larly sweet,  and  not  once  in  the  seven  widely  varied 
numbers  given  did  he  make  a  harsh  note  or  "  saw  " 
the  strings,  as  even  the  best  artists  may  at  times 
permit  themselves  to  do.  His  touch  is,  in  fact,  mar- 
vellous, and  the  effects  that  he  makes  in  diminu- 
endo passages  are  surpassingly  beautiful.  He  seems 
to  make  his  instrument  a  part  of  himself  and  it 
glows  and  burns  and  flames  under  his  master-hand, 
ever  en  rapport  with  the  strange  magnetism  of  the 
artistes  powerful  individuaHty.  That  these  attributes 
would  not  assert  so  emphatic  an  effect  in  music  of 
the  purely  classic  school,  where  the  artist  is,  neces- 
sarily, restrained  somewhat,  must  be  at  once  evident, 
and  in  the  grand  concerto  by  Mendelssohn,  played 
in  the  first  part,  they  were  suggested  rather  than  ex- 
hibited. 

—  New  York  Herald,  Nov.  17,  1878. 

The  Hungarian  violinist,  Edouard  Remenyi,  who 
made  his  first  appearance  in  America  last  night  in 
Steinway  Hall,  is  one  of  those  phenomenal  artists 
who  can  be  measured  by  the  standard  of  no  other 
man.  Comparison,  in  most  cases,  is  but  a  pinchbeck 
criticism,  and  with  such  an  exceptional  and  original 
performer  as  this  it  is  entirely  useless.  All  his  work 
bears  the  mark  of  his  own  strong  character;  and  in 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  225 

everything  that  he  does,  whether  we  consider  the 
intellectual  conception  of  the  piece  or  the  technical 
execution  of  it,  the  differences  which  separate  him 
from  other  violinists  are  differences  not  so  much  in 
the  degree  of  merit  as  in  kind.  Perhaps,  indeed, 
there  is  one  particular  in  which  it  is  proper  to  com- 
pare him  with  Wilhelmj,  but  there  is  only  one.  When 
we  are  told  that  Remenyi  is  "  the  Liszt  of  the  violin," 
we  naturally  expect  to  hear  from  his  instrument  a 
full  and  robust  tone.  We  do  hear  a  remarkably 
pure,  even,  and  effective  tone,  but  it  lacks  something 
of  that  masculine  splendor  which  distinguishes  Wil- 
helmj's,  just  as  his  style  lacks  the  grand  breadth, 
dignity,  and  majestic  repose  of  the  famous  German. 
Remenyi's  fascination  is  exerted  by  charms  of  another 
sort.  In  mere  technical  facility  he  yields  to  no  one. 
In  the  power  of  expressing  a  certain  order  of  emotions 
we  do  not  believe  he  has  a  rival.  In  fire,  brilliancy, 
and  daring  he  reminds  us  of  the  accounts  that  have 
been  written  of  Paganini.  His  first  selection  last  night 
was  a  part  of  Mendelssohn's  violin  concerto,  the 
second  and  third  movements.  The  andante  was  very 
purely  and  beautifully  played,  with  no  excess  of  senti- 
ment, to  say  the  least,  rather  quicker  than  we  are  ac- 
customed to  hear  it,  and  with  perhaps  an  unexpected 
degree  of  composure.  It  was  not  until  the  rondo 
was  reached  that  the  violinist  showed  his  quahty, 
illuminating  the  whole  movement  with  a  strange  fire, 
at  which  the  elegant  Mendelssohn,  if  he  was  aware 


226  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

of  it,  must  have  stared  in  amazement.  A  still  better 
display  of  his  characteristic  powers  was  afforded  by 
a  group  of  Chopin  pieces,  whose  romantic  spirit  and 
freedom  in  rhythmic  structure  seemed  just  suited  to 
his  temper. 

—  New  York  Tribune,  Nov.  12,  1878. 

It  is  evident  that  this  celebrated  violinist  has 
entered  upon  a  successful  American  career.  His 
performance  on  Monday  night  satisfied  the  audience 
that  he  is  a  remarkable  example  of  a  school  of  art  that 
is  not  altogether  familiar  with  our  people,  and  his 
second  concert  at  Steinway  Hall  strengthened  the 
favorable  impression  made  by  him  on  his  first  appear- 
ance. It  has  already  been  written  that  he  is  distinctive 
in  method,  possesses  an  individuality  of  his  own  mak- 
ing, and  is  utterly  unlike  his  great  compeers,  Wilhelmj 
and  Ole  Bull.  Where  Wilhelmj  is  majestic  and 
almost  frigid,  yet  classically  beautiful  in  his  strong 
harmonies,  Remenyi  is  simply  romantic.  Where  Ole 
Bull  scatters  his  poetical  brilliants  and,  confident  of 
his  artistic  effects,  throws  off  the  lights  and  shadows 
of  his  forty  years  of  experience  among  the  melodies  of 
every  country  in  which  he  has  sojourned,  Remenyi 
when  left  to  himself,  pours  out  the  poetry  of  his  own 
warm  Hungarian  nature.  Copying  the  sentiments 
of  Beethoven,  and  even  introducing,  as  he  did  last 
night,  his  own  lengthy  cadenza,  there  was  much 
wanting  to  elicit  more  than  merely  compHmentary 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  227 

enthusiasm;  but  when  in  subsequent  numbers  he 
performed  the  "  Nocturne  de  la  Rose  "  (in  A  major, 
No.  4),  the  "  Barcarole  "  by  Schubert,  and  Chopin's 
valse  (Op.  64,  No.  i),  transcribed  and  arranged  by 
himself,  and  as  the  closing  feature  of  the  programme 
played  his  own  composition,  "  Introduction  Guer- 
riere "  and  the  Hungarian  "  Marche  Nationale," 
there  was  no  room  left  for  doubt  that  a  great  artist 
and  executant  was  in  our  midst,  and  that  he  will 
worthily  retain  his  share  of  the  field  that  is  now  being 
so  well  occupied  by  the  other  two  great  artists  whose 
names  have  been  mentioned.  The  peculiarities  of 
Remenyi's  playing  are,  first,  his  apparent  absence  of 
mind.  He  rarely  seems  to  realize  that  an  audience 
is  in  front  of  him  until  he  is  awakened  as  from  a 
dream  by  the  applause.  Second,  he  is  full  of  senti- 
ment. He  appears  to  enjoy  a  revel  among  the  soft, 
low,  and  tender  notes  of  his  violin  rather  than  the 
diabolic  style  which  once  made  Sivori  say  he  never 
felt  fully  inspired  until  he  saw  Satan's  tail  protruding 
from  the  apertures  of  his  instrument.  It  is  this 
method  which  is  calculated  to  make  Remenyi  popu- 
lar. He  plays  from  his  heart  and  is  sympathetic. 
—  New  York  Herald,  Nov.  14,  1878. 

The  concert  of  last  night  was  attended  by  a  very 
large  audience,  which  became,  before  the  close  of  the 
evening,  one  of  the  most  enthusiastic  audiences  ever 
assembled  in  the  Music  Hall.    Edouard  Remenyi 


328  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

is  a  great  violinist,  and  the  pleasure  of  hearing  him 
now  is  increased  by  the  inevitable  and  interesting 
comparison  which  every  one  makes  between  him  and 
Wilhelmj.  The  latter  has  the  obvious  and  super- 
ficial advantage  of  looking  the  artist  that  he  really 
is;  but  no  one  could  divine  that  Remenyi's  short,  stout 
figure,  bald  head,  ruddy  complexion,  and  almost 
grotesquely  jolly  countenance  belonged  to  a  musician 
whose  spirit  is  endowed  with  the  finest  sensibility 
and  has  been  touched  by  the  poetic  fire.  Yet  such  is 
indeed  the  fact.  Remenyi  is  one  of  the  first  of  living 
violinists  in  his  mastery  of  the  technique  of  the  instru- 
ment. His  tone  has  great  strength,  richness,  and 
resonance,  and  is  only  inferior  in  these  qualities  to 
that  of  Wilhelmj,  who  in  sonorous  volume  surpasses, 
we  think,  any  player  ever  heard  in  this  country. 
Remenyi's  phrasing  is  beautiful,  and  it  is  only  in 
breadth  that  his  style  is  of  less  worth  than  Wilhelmj's. 
The  Hungarian  performer  is  likely  to  be  the  more  pop- 
ular of  the  two;  he  is  more  showy  and  specious;  has  an 
intensity  of  style  which  is  perhaps  more  immediately 
telling  and  contagious  because  it  is  nearer  the  surface, 
and  has  an  absolute  and  conscious  control  of  all  that 
is  effective  in  his  art.  We  do  not  mean  to  imply  that 
Remenyi  is  in  the  least  a  charlatan;  the  very  con- 
trary is  true;  but  the  quality  of  his  genius  is  lighter, 
swifter,  more  brilliant  and  dazzling  than  Wilhelmj's, 
as  well  as  less  profound  and  less  suggestive.  The 
difference  between  the  two  men  as  players  is  some- 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  229 

thing  like  that  between  Mozart  and  Beethoven  as 
composers  ;  and  there  is  no  reason  why  each  should 
not  occupy  his  own  lofty  position.  Remenyi  shows 
himself  possessed  of  a  singularly  mercurial  and 
sensitive  fancy,  which,  in  the  interpretation  of  com- 
positions like  Chopin's  nocturnes,  expresses  itself 
with  truly  poetic  dreaminess,  while  in  a  waltz  by 
the  same  composer  it  is  clothed  in  colors  like  those 
of  the  rainbow.  He  has,  as  is  natural,  a  peculiar 
sympathy  with  the  Hungarian  music,  and  his  per- 
formance of  it  is  more  bewilderingly  fascinating  than 
that  of  any  artist  whom  we  have  heard ;  the  strange 
and  stirring  rhythms  having  a  new  significance  and 
beauty  as  they  are  marked  by  his  instrument.  No 
player,  also,  that  we  can  recall,  surpasses,  perhaps 
none  equals,  Remenyi  in  the  ability  to  work  up  to  the 
height  of  a  musical  climax,  not  with  crude  violence 
of  style,  but  with  steady  growing  and  absolutely  con- 
tagious intensity. 

—  Boston  Daily  Advertiser,  Nov.  21,  1878. 

Great  violinists  have  conspired  together  to  make 
true  the  old  saw  that  "  it  never  rains  but  it  pours." 
Wilhelmj  has  hardly  left  us  when  his  countryman, 
Remenyi,  swoops  down  upon  our  city  and  carries 
off  what  honors  were  left  to  be  won.  As  if  this  were 
not  enough,  Ole  Bull  steps  in  with  his  winning,  pa- 
ternal smile,  and  delights  his  crowds  of  sworn  ad- 
mirers as  if  nothing  unusual  had  happened.     But 


230  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

our  present  business  is  with  Remenyi,  who  made  his 
first  bow  (or  drew  his  first  bow)  in  Boston  last 
Wednesday  evening  in  the  Music  Hall.  Not  quite 
his  first  though,  for  some  of  us  can  remember  him 
years  ago  in  the  Kossuth  time,  a  slim  young  man, 
playing  delightfully.    .    .    . 

The  very  appearance  of  the  man,  as  he  stepped 
forward  upon  the  stage,  was  a  good  earnest  of  what 
we  were  to  expect  from  his  playing.  The  good- 
natured,  close-shaven  face  —  a  perfect  abbi  face  of  the 
time  of  Charles  X  —  is  full  of  that  humor  which 
Thackeray  has  defined  as  a  union  of  wit  and  love. 
The  innate  tact,  that  power  of  pleasing  for  pleas- 
ing's  sake,  which  is  expressed  in  the  easy,  curvilinear 
movements  of  his  body  as  he  walks, —  movements 
which  no  Anglo-Saxon  could  hope  to  imitate,  gracious 
and  graceful,  yet  prevented  from  being  languid  and 
sentimental  by  a  touch  of  sprightly  bonhomie, —  all 
these  indicate  plainly  enough,  if  physiognomy  and 
bearing  indicate  anything,  the  artistic  quality  of  the 
man.  Nor  were  these  prognostics  deceptive.  Of 
all  the  fascinating  violinists  ever  heard  here,  Remenyi 
must  be  called  the  most  bewitching.  Like  all  fas- 
cinating players  he  has  a  slight  tendency  toward  some- 
thing akin  to  mannerism;  he  is  perhaps  too  fond 
of  constant  pianissimo  effects,  yet  a  certain  fine 
esthetic  perception  saves  him  from  mawkishness, 
and  we  feel  that  there  is  more  of  elegance  and  grace 
in  his  somewhat  excessive  deHcacy  than  there  is  of 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  231 

callow  sentimentalism.  His  tone  is  always  pure 
and  delicate;  it  has  an  almost  cloying  sweetness,  re- 
minding one  of  some  of  the  delicious,  sensuous 
flute  and  reed  effects  in  Berlioz's  orchestration,  yet 
when  he  attacks  strong  passages,  it  acquires  a  rare 
pungency  of  timbre  that  is  as  brilliant  and  telling  as 
that  of  a  fine  metallic  tenor  voice.  His  technique  is 
absolute,  so  perfect  that  it  needs  no  comment.  His 
playing  of  numbers  21  and  24  of  Paganini's  capric- 
cios  (the  latter  of  which  is  known  to  pianists  as  the 
last  of  Liszt's  formidable  set  of  studies  after  Paganini) 
showed  the  music  in  a  new  light.  Violinist  after 
violinist  has  tried  his  hand  at  Paganini's  music,  but 
without  effect,  so  thin  and  poor  is  its  musical  essence; 
with  so  little  effect,  indeed,  that  some  persons  have 
been  led  to  conjecture  that  the  composer  himself 
never  could  have  intoxicated  his  hearers,  as  he  is  re- 
ported to  have  done,  by  pla)dng  it  as  it  is  written.  It 
seemed  impossible  that  such  poor  stuff  should  have 
ever  been  effective.  These  capriccios  are  poor  stuff 
it  is  true,  musically  speaking,  but  if  a  man  have  the 
devil  in  him,  they  offer  a  rare  chance  for  showing 
it.  As  Remenyi  played  them  (especially  the  latter 
one),  they  were  like  the  friskiest  champagne  —  no, 
not  champagne,  but  hot  champagne  punch,  if  such  a 
beverage  exists.  One  listened  to  them  as  if  bitten 
by  a  rabid  tarantula;  it  was  irresistible.  And  yet  all 
this  bewildering  effect  was  produced  without  trickery; 
by  simple,  contagious,  personal  magnetism. 

—  Boston  Courier,  Nov.  24,  1878. 


232  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

The  first  concert  of  the  Philharmonic  Society  of 
New  York,  under  the  direction  of  its  new  conductor, 
Mr.  Adolph  Neuendorf,  took  place  at  the  Academy  of 
Music  on  Saturday  evening,  November  23d.  .  .  . 
In  the  melodies,  Remenyi's  phrasing  and  depth  of 
expression  were  marvellously  beautiful  and  intense, 
his  intonation  perfect;  in  the  bravura  sense,  though 
the  execution  seemingly  left  nothing  to  be  wished 
for,  it  could  not  be  adequately  enjoyed,  from  the  fact 
that  the  violin  at  times  seemed  quite  a  semitone 
higher  than  the  orchestra.  .  .  .  Remenyi  proved 
his  unique  powers  to  their  utmost  in  two  smaller 
selections  from  Chopin  —  the  nocturne  in  E  flat  and 
the  mazurka  in  B  flat,  in  which  he  again  delighted 
his  audience  by  his  remarkable  delicacy  of  execution 
and  tone,  facility  in  the  reproduction  of  ornamental 
portions,  and  his  artistic  expression  of  poetical  sen- 
timent. After  each  performance,  he  had  quite  a 
triumph  in  the  way  of  applause,  and  was  obliged  to 
respond  twice  to  the  demand  for  encores. 

—  Musical  Trade  Review,  Nov.  30,  1878. 

The  chief  features  of  the  Philharmonic's  initial 
concert  of  its  twenty-first  season  were  the  presence 
of  Theodore  Thomas  as  conductor,  Remenyi  as 
violin  soloist,  and  the  advent  of  a  Brooklyn  lady  as 
a  public  vocalist.  Miss  Annie  McCollum.  Of  Theo- 
dore Thomas  little  need  be  said  beyond  that  his 
magnetism  as  a  conductor  was  made  very  conspicu- 


PRESS   TRIBUTES  233 

ous  by  contrasting  its  effect  with  that  attained  by 
Mr.  Dietrich,  although,  to  be  sure,  the  latter  gentle- 
man has  all  the  drudgery  and  no  opportunity  of 
winning  the  laurels.  M.  Remenyi  was  not  quite  at 
home  in  several  severely  classical  passages.  In  the 
andante  of  the  Mendelssohn  concerto,  the  tone  pro- 
duced seemed  uncertain  and  spiritlessly  weak.  But 
in  his  own  transcription  of  Hungarian  melodies  and 
Chopin's  nocturne  and  mazurka,  his  style  changed, 
and  the  player  became  inspired  under  numbers  more 
natural  to  his  taste  and  style.  The  audience  really 
acknowledged  the  genius  of  the  virtuoso,  and  par- 
ticularly during  the  clear-cut  and  very  definable 
pianissimo  passages,  in  which  he  is  unapproachable, 
appeared  oblivious  of  existence  in  their  rapt  attention. 
Those  passages  of  his  have  wonderful  effect.  To  close 
one's  eyes,  one  might  imagine,  in  the  dead  silence, 
the  house  to  be  empty.  Not  even  a  breath  is  heard; 
not  a  programme  rustles;  and  if,  at  the  moment  of 
one  of  those  far-off  yet  distinct  strains,  some  unlucky 
wight  chances  to  open  the  door  and  enter,  he  is 
frowned  into  immovability. 

Again,  the  audience  never  loses  trace  of  the  rhythm, 
may  the  passage  or  the  musical  composition  be  ever 
so  strongly  involved,  and  twisted,  and  rambling 
from  key  to  key,  from  chord  to  chord.  And  having 
said  all  of  this,  one  has  n't  even  reached  a  tithe  of  a 
description  which  can  furnish  an  idea  of  this  master's 
performance.    Those  wonderful   virtuoso  artifices, 


234  EDOUARD   REMENYI 

which  require  almost  legerdemain  and  sleight-of-hand 
to  accomplish,  which  with  the  great  player  are  usu- 
ally each  the  culmination  of  an  effort  —  he  scatters 
them  about  continually,  and  in  never-ceasing  show- 
ers, as  an  apple  tree  scatters  blossoms  in  a  spring 
storm!  And  the  delicacy,  the  pearliness,  the  intri- 
cacy of  these  ornamentations,  these  instrumental 
fireworks  that  glitter  and  flash  over  his  play!  It 
was  the  realization  of  an  old  dream,  the  stepping  into 
life  of  a  slight,  short,  dark,  queer  figure  that  the  early 
authors  of  this  century  have  described;  it  was,  in 
a  word,  the  picture  of  what  Paganini  must  have 
been.  The  magnetism  of  presence,  the  almost  de- 
moniac influence  exerted  over  his  audience,  the 
magician  on  the  violin  over  again,  who  evoked  what 
sounds  he  wished,  did  with  the  instrument  as  he 
listed,—  it  was  just  what  Paganini  was  described  to 
have  been.  The  comparison  may  not  be  new, —  it 
probably  is  not, —  for  it  must  strike  every  one  who 
hears  Remenyi. 

—  Music  Trade  Review,  Dec.  21,  1887. 

When  Remenyi  came  upon  the  stage  he  was  re- 
ceived with  hearty  applause.  Nothing  in  his  appear- 
ance tells  of  the  poetic  or  artistic  genius  within. 
Little  as  Wilhelmj  looked  like  a  great  and  poetic 
artist,  Remenyi  looks  less  so.  But  this  is  only  the 
seeming.  With  the  first  few  minutes'  playing  on  the 
violin  there  is  a  transformation  in  the  man,  a  trans- 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  235 

figuration,  one  would  almost  say.  His  play  fills  and 
possesses  the  hearer,  and  one  ceases  to  have  eyes, 
one  has  only  ears  —  ears  and  an  imagination.  And 
now  comes  the  difficulty  of  specifying  the  particular 
qualities  that  distinguish  this  performance.  It  is  great 
by  right  of  the  wonderfully  clear,  sweet  tones,  the 
surpassing  technique,  the  utter  command  of  re- 
sources, and  the  finished,  brilliant  production.  But 
its  peculiarity  lies  deep  in  sentiment  delicately  and 
touchingly  expressed,  and  in  culminations  that  are 
radiant  in  their  power  and  effect;  also,  in  a  delicacy 
of  treatment  which  seems  like  infinite  tenderness,  and 
a  poetic  fragrance  and  fervor  that  continually  suggest 
pictures  and  words,  as  an  incarnation  of  sounds. 

And  now  the  reader  who  was  not  present  will  imag- 
ine that  all  has  been  told  of  Remenyi.  Not  the  half 
nor  the  quarter!  There  is  a  wonderful  intensity 
that  vivifies  and  points  his  play,  an  almost  piercing 
intensity,  which  sends  it  to  the  brain  of  every  hearer, 
straight  like  an  arrow.  Not  to  the  heart,  for  you  are 
too  much  astonished,  too  much  overwhelmed  to  feel 
deeply.  Then  there  are  color  and  expression  which 
markedly  and  unmistakably  vibrate  in  the  faintest 
pianissimos,  in  those  passages  that  float  through  the 
house  like  a  spirit-breath,  that  are  more  felt  than 
heard, —  in  those  passages  as  well  as  in  the  broad 
violoncello  sounds,  in  the  mad  runs,  in  the  pearly 
trills,  in  everything! 

—  Hartford  Daily  Times,  Dec.  20,  1878. 


236  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Pike's  Opera  House  was  filled  last  night  with  an 
audience  congregated  to  greet  the  eminent  pianist, 
Julia  Rive-King,  assisted  by  Edouard  Remenyi,  the 
Hungarian  violinist,  Gertrude  Franklin,  a  soprano 
vocalist  of  New  York,  and  the  Thomas  Orchestra. 
No.  2,  the  concerto  (andante  and  rondo)  by  Men- 
delssohn, brought  to  the  front  the  celebrated  violinist, 
Remenyi.  The  pure,  beautiful,  entrancing  tones 
from  Remenyi's  wonderful  instrument  seemed  to 
talk  with  words  of  sympathy  and  consolation.  It 
was  soul-music,  heart-music,  brain-music,  tender, 
touching,  sympathetic,  and  melancholy,  delicate  as  a 
summer  zephyr.  At  times  it  seemed  like  moonbeams 
filtered  to  earth  from  a  spring  night's  sky.  The 
rondo  opened  with  the  horns,  a  short  prelude,  fol- 
lowed with  a  rapid  staccato  movement.  Every  note 
of  the  melody  seemed  a  diamond,  clear  and  bright 
as  a  raindrop  'neath  a  summer  sun.  Then  came 
long  sustained  notes,  sandwiched  between  the  very 
quick  movements,  made  so  much  the  more  fairylike 
and  impressive  by  contrast.  The  audience  became 
so  enthused  with  the  performance  that  at  short  in- 
tervals storms  of  applause  caused  the  hall  to  reecho, 
and  at  the  close  of  the  piece,  shouts,  the  clapping  of 
hands,  and  evidences  of  approbation  and  delight 
recalled  the  distinguished  artist,  who  generously 
played  Schubert's  "  Serenade  "  with  a  tenderness  and 
feeling  we  have  never  heard  surpassed.  It  was  as 
sweet   as  the    "  first  whisperings  of  love."      Even 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  237 

Thomas  joined  in  the  recognition  of  eminent  talent, 
and  split  the  palms  of  his  white  kids  in  token 
thereof. 

—  Cincinnati  Commercial,  Jan.  30,  1879. 

Remenyi  has  that  fire  and  passion  which  thrill, 
stir,  and  fascinate.  Wilhelmj  was  classic  and  colos- 
sal; Remenyi  is  romantic  and  poetical.  There  is  the 
same  difference  between  them  that  there  is  between 
Beethoven  and  Berlioz  as  composers,  or  between  an 
antique  statue  and  a  highly  wrought  picture  of  the 
modem  French  school.  Theodore  Thomas  covered 
the  ground  very  completely  when  he  said  that  Wil- 
helmj played  to  the  musician  and  Remenyi  to  the 
musicians  and  the  other  people.  The  dullest  lis- 
tener, who  might  hear  Wilhelmj  unmoved,  could  not 
help  being  stirred  by  Remenyi.  His  contrasts  are 
very  broad.  In  the  Chopin  nocturne,  and  the  Schu- 
bert "  Serenade,"  which  he  gave  for  an  encore,  and 
in  the  first  of  the  Paganini  capriccios,  which  is  a  slow 
movement,  he  played  with  exquisite  tenderness,  and 
at  times  with  a  delicacy  almost  feminine,  producing 
a  tone  full  of  sweetness  and  a  peculiarly  dreamy,  fas- 
cinating effect.  Again,  as  in  the  Hungarian  melodies, 
the  "  Otello  Fantasie,"  and  the  second  Paganini 
capriccio,  with  a  fervor,  fire,  and  abandon  which 
were  irresistible.  His  technique  is  simply  bound- 
less and  equal  to  any  emergency.  In  this  respect  he 
is  the  peer  of  any  living  player  we  have  heard.    It  is 


238  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

simply  electrifying,  strangely  fascinating,  and  mag- 
netic as  was  that  of  Rubinstein  as  compared  with 
Von  Billow.  His  bowing  is  often  eccentric,  and  there 
is  a  grotesqmrie  at  times  in  his  work  that  closely 
approaches  the  sensational,  but  there  is  no  opportu- 
nity to  criticise  such  a  player.  He  sweeps  criticism 
and  every  sort  of  objection  away.  A  man  with  the 
temperament  of  an  iceberg  might  perhaps  dissect  his 
playing,  but  unless  he  is  at  that  degree  of  frigidity 
he  can  remember  little  else  but  the  potent  spell  of 
the  fascination  which  this  great  player  weaves  around 
him,  the  exquisite  colors,  the  dazzling  brilliancy, 
and  the  absolute  abandon  of  his  work. 

—  Chicago  Tribune,  Feb.  5,  1879. 

The  greeting  awarded  to  the  distinguished  Hun- 
garian violinist  last  evening  was  one  of  extraordinary 
fervor,  and  the  occasion  was  in  all  respects  a  great 
one  of  its  kind.    .     .     . 

It  has  been  said  of  Remenyi  that  he  is  a  Liszt  of 
the  violin,  for  the  reason  perhaps  that  he  possesses  a 
mysterious  power  over  the  weird,  pathetic,  appealing 
tones  of  his  instrument.  It  should  be  said,  rather,  that 
he  is  a  poet  of  the  violin,  and  that  he  is  great  enough 
in  his  own  right  to  stand  alone  without  being  bols- 
tered up  by  a  simile  which  involves  the  name  of 
any  other  master.  Coming  as  he  does  so  soon  after 
Wilhelmj,  the  sharp  contrast  of  his  style  inevitably 
suggests  a  comparison  with  that  eminent  virtuoso. 


PRESS  TRIBUTES  239 

It  is  a  comparison  which  illustrates  the  different 
phases  of  genius,  but  detracts  nothing  from  either 
master.  The  Hungarian  is  not  impressive  in  per- 
sonal appearance.  His  stature  is  below  the  medium, 
and  his  face  is  rather  that  of  a  sleek,  well-fed  abbS 
of  a  French  village  than  of  a  musician  who  plays 
to  kings  and  capitals.  Neither  is  he  a  graceful 
player,  and  his  habit  of  whirling  the  bow  over  his 
head  and  striking  a  powerful  staccato  note  as  it  de- 
scends upon  the  strings  would  seem  meretricious  if 
it  were  not  evidently  unpremeditated.  There  is  in 
Remenyi  Httle  suggestion  of  the  pure  classicism  of 
Wilhelmj,  the  calm,  noble  dignity,  the  broad  purity 
and  grace  of  style  which  have  made  the  latter  unriv- 
alled in  his  special  field.  But  Remenyi  is  not  less  great 
in  his  way.  He  is  the  most  individual  and  charac- 
teristic of  viohnists.  His  playing  is  the  refinement 
of  poetic  sentiment  and  dehcate  execution.  He 
takes  large  license  with  his  composer,  and  is  most 
felicitous  in  his  renditions  of  Chopin,  whose  dainty 
rhythmic  measures  impose  but  shght  restrictions 
upon  the  performer  in  respect  to  tempo  and  expres- 
sion. His  command  of  his  instrument  is  complete, 
and  unlike  that  of  any  other  master  unless  there  may 
be  in  it  perhaps  a  suggestion  of  Vieuxtemps.  It  is 
difficult  at  times  to  see  how  the  effect  is  produced; 
the  bow  seems  to  make  a  succession  of  round,  crisp 
notes  with  hardly  a  perceptible  movement  on  the 
strings;  anon  the  fire  of  his  hot-blooded  race  seems 


240  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

to  break  out,  the  player  closes  his  eyes,  bends  for- 
ward, and  every  string  of  his  violin  seems  to  quiver 
and  speak  at  once.  In  the  programme  of  last  even- 
ing the  violinist  had  three  numbers,  Ernst's  "  Otello 
Fantasie,"  a  nocturne  and  mazurka  by  Chopin,  with 
his  own  transcription  of  a  Hungarian  melody,  and, 
finally,  two  characteristic  capriccios  by  Paganini. 
These,  with  the  attendant  encores,  gave  him  an 
arduous  evening,  but  he  played  with  evident  enjoy- 
ment, and  was  received  with  enthusiastic  favor. 
As  an  enchanted  visitor  from  one  of  the  neighboring 
counties  remarked,  it  was  "  the  silkiest  fiddlin'  he 
had  ever  heard." 

—  Cleveland  Leader,  Feb.  ii,  1879. 

Mr.  Pugh  gave  to  his  Star  Course  audience  last 
evening  one  of  the  best  concerts  that  has  been  given 
in  Philadelphia  for  a  long  time.  The  important 
feature  of  it  was  the  violin-playing  of  Remenyi,  the 
Hungarian  violinist,  whose  performance  had  the  rare 
merit  of  equalling,  if  not  surpassing,  its  promise,  as 
well  as  the  reports  from  other  cities.  There  have 
been  many  noisier  and  more  demonstrative  players 
of  his  instrument  here,  and  some  that  have  done  very 
astonishing  things.  But  in  delicacy  of  tone  and 
elegance  of  touch  with  the  fingers  and  the  bow,  com- 
bined with  intellectual  and  emotional  expression  in 
interpreting  music,  scarcely  any  one  can  be  fairly 
said  to  have  equalled  him. 


PRESS    TRIBUTES  241 

Remenyi  played  Ernst's  fantasia  on  "  Otello  "  as 
it  has  rarely,  if  ever,  been  played  here,  and  for  an 
encore  gave  a  transcription  of  Schubert's  "  Serenade," 
which  was  remarkable  as  he  played  it,  for  no  other 
violinist  could  so  fill  with  human  tenderness  an  air 
written  for  the  voice.  Later  in  the  evening  his  tran- 
scriptions of  piano  compositions  by  Chopin  showed 
the  same  rare  power  of  taking  another's  work  and 
inspiring  it  with  the  soul  that  dwells  in  his  instrument. 
The  characteristic  Hungarian  airs,  however,  showed 
him  at  his  best^  and  perhaps  it  was  well  that  he  con- 
cluded with  some  of  Paganini's  gymnastic  work, 
just  to  show  that  he  could  do  it  as  well  as  anybody. 
But  evidently  his  art  is  seen  to  most  advantage  in 
music  of  the  graceful,  tender  sort,  in  which  the  artist 
can  express  or  respond  to  the  feeling  of  the  composer. 
When  playing  pianissimo,  now  in  sustained  measure, 
and  again  in  a  rush  of  delicate  cadences;  now  with 
the  full  tone  of  the  strings,  and  again  in  harmonics, 
the  purity  of  which  we  have  never  heard  equalled, 
there  is  always  an  expression  of  thorough  feeling  as 
well  as  of  perfect  technique. 

— Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin, 

Mar.  25, 1879. 


REMENYI'S  COMPOSITIONS* 

Tibor  Remenyi,  son  of  the  violinist,  furnishes  the 
following  partial  list  of  his  father's  compositions: 

1.  Fantasia  "  Les  Huguenots  "  (dedicated  to  the 

Emperor  of  Germany). 

2.  "  Valse  Nobile  "  (for  violin). 

3.  Introduction  and  "Marche  Hongroise." 

4.  Fantasia,  "  Barbier  de  Seville.'' 

5.  "  Hymn  of  Liberty"  (for  chorus  and  orchestra). 

6.  "  The  Death  of  Gezirel  Hassan." 

7.  ^^  Tragedy." 

8.  Two  concertos  for  violin. 

9.  "  Hungarian  Hymn." 

10.  ''  Nouvelle  Ecole  du  Violon." 

11.  "Trois  Morceaux  Hongrois." 

12.  "Home,  Sweet  Home  "  (arrangement). 

13.  Choral  Theme. 

14.  Transcription  of  Field's  Nocturnes. 

15.  Transcription  of  Chopin's  Polonaises. 

16.  Several  transcriptions  from  Bach  and  Schubert. 

*Remenyi's  principal  work  in  composing  was  in  his  remarkable  adap- 
tations or  arrangements  of  music  for  practical  use  for  the  violin,  or  the 
violin  with  other  instruments,  his  great  desire  being  to  increase  what  he 
called  "  the  literature  of  the  violin.** — G.  D.  K. 

242 


Programme  of 

REMENYI'S  FIRST  CONCERT  IN  THE 
UNITED  STATES  (1850) 

EDOUARD  REMENYI, 
Violinist,  late  from  Hungary, 
Begs  to  announce  to  the  lovers  of  music  that  his 
Grand  Vocal  and  Instrumental 
Concert 
will  take  place  at 
Niblo's  Saloon,  Saturday  evening,  January  19,  1850. 
On  which  occasion  he  will  be  assisted  by  the  following  artists: 
Madame  Stephani 
A  native  Hungarian  (her  first  appearance) 
Mr.  Wm.  Scharfenberg 
Mr.  H.  C.  Timm 
And  an  efficient  orchestra  under  the  direction  of 
Mr.  Th.  Eisfeld. 

PROGRAMME 
Parti 

1.  Overture  to   "Othello"        ....       Rossini. 

Orchestra. 

2.  Concerto  for  the  violin     ....   Vieuxtemps. 

M.  Remenyi. 

3.  Aria  from  **I1  Flauto  Magico"  .       .       ^      Mozart. 

Mme.  Stephani. 

4.  Capriccio   for   the   piano    .       .       .      Mendelssohn. 

Mr.  Scharfenberg. 

5.  Concerto  for  the  violin Molique. 

M.  Remenyi. 

243 


244  EDOUARD  REMENYI 

Part  II 

6.  Overture  to  "Felsenmiihle"   .       .       .        Reissiger. 

Orchestra. 

7 .  Aria  from  * '  Prd  aux  Clercs. ' '  With  obligato 

accompaniment  of  violin  ....      Hirold. 
Mme.  Stephani  and  M.  Remenyi. 

8.  Duo  for  violin  and  piano,  on  moti}s  from 

"Sonnambula" De  Beriot. 

Mr.  Timm  and  M.  Remenyi. 

9.  Aria 

Mme.  Stephani. 

10.    Hungarian  Native  Melodies    .... 

M.  Remenyi  (arranged  by  himself). 

Remenyi  made  the  following  observations  on  this 
programme  twenty-eight  years  after  it  was  given: 
"  I  was  then  a  mere  child,  only  fourteen  years  old, 
and  I  did  not  look  to  be  any  more  than  nine  or  ten. 
I  did  not  begin  to  grow  until  I  was  eighteen  or  nine- 
teen, and  I  did  not  grow  very  tall  then.  My  family 
was  exiled  for  participating  in  the  war  for  the  inde- 
pendence of  Hungary.  I  bore  a  small  part  in  that 
Revolution  myself,  although  I  was  but  twelve  years 
old  at  the  time.  Kossuth  came  to  America  an  exile, 
in  1852,  I  think.*  I  began  to  play  the  violin  when  I 
was  nine  years  old,  and  the  exiles  in  whose  company 
I  came  to  New  York  spoke  of  my  extraordinary  ability 
for  one  so  young.  We  were  very  warmly  received 
in  New  York  and  shown  every  courtesy.  I  had  no 
money,  and  some  charitable  gentlemen  of  the  city 

*  Kossuth  arrived  at  Washington,  on  the  invitation  of  the  United 
Statest  December  so,  1851. —  Edr. 


FIRST   CONCERT  IN  AMERICA  245 

conceived  the  idea  of  giving  a  concert  to  furnish  me 
with  funds  to  enable  me  to  finish  my  musical  edu- 
cation abroad.  I  do  not  recollect  the  names  of  those 
kind  gentlemen  —  only  one,  a  Mr.  Bailey,  who  was 
a  rich  merchant.  They  were  pleased  to  think  I  had 
a  natural  talent  for  the  violin  which  was  worth  de- 
veloping. I  remained  in  the  United  States  only  five 
or  six  months,  and  with  the  proceeds  of  this  concert 
I  went  to  France  and  Germany  to  prosecute  my 
studies.  I  put  myself  under  the  instruction  of  the 
great  master  Lizst  and  became,  so  he  said,  an  apt 
pupil." 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  Remenyi,  with  an  expressive 
gesture,  "  music  in  America  was  in  its  infancy. 
You  had  comparatively  nothing.  Music  in  this 
country  to-day  is  in  a  flourishing  state.  More  works 
of  the  great  masters  are  given  in  New  York  than  in 
many  of  the  larger  cities  of  Europe.  Thomas  did 
a  splendid  work  for  New  York;  he  gave  many  of  your 
people  a  fine  musical  education.  And  the  people  of 
this  city  still  have  leaders  like  Dr.  Damrosch,  Carl- 
berg,  and  Neuendorf.  There  can  be  no  comparison 
between  music  in  New  York  in  1850  and  1878.  The 
growth  and  development  of  correct  musical  taste  has 
been  wonderful." 


INDEX 


INDEX 


ACT 

Actors*  Fund  of  America  pre- 
pared Remenyi's  grave,  no 

Aid  for  a  countryman,  72 

Amati  violins,  178-181 

Ames,  Miss,  singer  at  White 
House  concert  (1878),  124 

Anderson,  Dr.  Winslow,  Remen- 
yi's physician,  104 

Architecture  and  thoroughfares, 
163, 164 

Armstrong,  Mrs.,  see  Melba 

"Auld  Lang  Syne,"  137 

"Auld  Robin  Grey,"  137 

Bach,  Remenyi's  admiration  for 
the  works  of,  175-177 

Bailey,  Mr.,  early  friend  of 
Remenyi,  245 

Baracs,  Henri,  121 

"Barcarole,"  Schubert,  Remen- 
yi's playing  of,  204,  215 

Batchelder,  Prof.  J.  D.,  129 

Beethoven's  national  feeling,  142, 

143 

Blind  auditors,  Remenyi  played 
before,  59 

Bohm,  Auguste,  music  dealer  of 
Hamburg,  81 

Bohm,  Joseph,  teacher  of  Re- 
menyi, 10,  44 

Bosanquet,  148 

Boston  C^wnVr  (quoted),  229-231 


CIN 

Boston  Daily  Advertiser  (quot- 
ed), 227-229 

Boston  Evening  Telegraph 
(quoted),  124-126 

Bourne,  Robert  W.,  107 

Bowing,  Remenyi's  method  of, 
218,  220,  221,224,  238 

Brahms,  Johannes,  11-15,63,79 

95 
Brendel,  Franz,  16 
Brown,  Marcus,  107 
Bull,  Ole,  226,  229 
Bumell,  Dr.,  148 

Camp  violinist,  Remenyi  as,  10, 

II,  18,96, 121,  122 
Campobello,     Sig.,     singer     at 

White  House  concert  (1878), 

124 
Caravaggio,  a  painting  attributed 

to,  183 
Carlberg,  — ,  musical  leader,  245 
"Carnival  of  Venice,"  59,  140 
Chapman,  Henry  D.,  Jr.,  107 
"Charlie  is  my  Darling,"  137 
Chicago  Tribune  (quoted),  237^ 

238 
Chopin's    national  feeling,  141, 

as  interpreted   by    Remenyi, 

219 
Cincinnati  Commercial  (quoted), 

235-237 


249 


250 


INDEX 


CLE 

Cleveland  Leader  (quoted),  238- 

240 
Commercialism  in  Japanese  art, 

166 
Compositions  of  Remenyi,  25, 26, 

112, 128,  242 
Concert  -  meister     of      Thomas 

Orchestra,  69 
Concert  tours  made  by  Remenyi, 

19,  20,  46-48,  61,  66,  75,   115- 

120,  201,  202 
Connoisseur  of  art,  Remenyi  as 

a,  31,  50,  112, 182,  183 
Cornelis,  Edward  T.,  107 
Courtney,  Mr.,  singer  at  White 

House  concert  (1878),  124 
Crimmins,  John  D.,  107 
Critics  of  art  and  music,  50 
Cukor,  Morris  A,  107,  108 


Daily  Englishman^  Calcutta, 
India  (quoted),  147-155 

Damrosch,  Dr.  Walter,  245 

D'Annunzio,  Gabriele,  172,  173 

Dawson,  Arthur,  183 

Death  of  Remenyi,  22,  loi,  102, 
105,  106,  III 

Death-mask  taken  of  Remenyi, 
106 

Deiters,  Dr.  Herman,  13 

Denver  (Colo.):  welcome  ten- 
dered Remenyi,  117 

Dethier,  — ,  organist,  71 

"Dictionary  of  Music,"  Grove, 
13,22,24,27 

"Dictionary  of  Music,"  Rie- 
mann,  9 


FRA 

Diet  upon  which  Remenyi  sub- 
sisted, 66,  190,  205,  207 

Dietrich,  Mr.,  conductor,  233 

Dohn,  A.  W.,  25 

Dulcken,  Mr.,  performed  at 
White  House  (1878),  124 

Dvorak,  Dr.  Antonin,  208 

Dyer-Chester,  Hon.  Frank, 
Consul  at  Budapest,  28 

Edison,  Norman  A.,  107 
Eisfeld,    Theodore,    orchestral 

leader,  11,  243 
Elkhart  (Ind.):  incident   which 

occurred  at  concert,  115 
Engel,  Carl,  148 
Evergreen  Cemetery,  New  York, 

Remenyi's  resting-place,  no 
Exile  of  Remenyi,  11,  18,  40,  96, 

97,  244 
Expansion    predicted    for    the 

United  States,  168 


Family  of  Remenyi,  18,  37,  38^ 

108, 112, 198,  207 
Fay  de  Faj,  Anton  de,  father  of 

Madame  Remenyi,  47 
First  concert  given  by  Remenyi 
»  in  the  United  States,  243-245 
Flaubert,  Gustave,  45 
Fleishman,  Louis,  107 
Floral    tributes    at    Remenyi's 

funeral  services,  no 
Fort   Collins    (Colo.) :    incident 

which  occurred  at  concert,  117, 

118 
Franklin,  Gertrude,  vocalist,  236 


INDEX 


251 


FRE 

"  Freischutz,"  Weber,  142 
Fuchs,  Julius,  25 
Funeral  services  held  over  Re- 
menyi,  1 07-110 

Gautier,  Theophile,  45 
"  God  Save  the  King,"  138, 
Goff,  Recorder,  speaker  at  Re- 

menyi's  funeral,  log 
Goncourts,  Les  Files,  45 
Gorgey,     General,     Hungarian 

patriot,  10,  75,  121,  122 
Greek  art,  165 
Greuze,  182 
Griffin,  Robert  H.,  107 
Guido  d' Arezzo,  148 
Gunsaulus,  Rev.  Frank,  58 
"Gypsies    and  their    Music   in 

Hungary,  The,"  Liszt,  16 
Gypsy  music,  66,  75:  see  Magyar 

music  and  Hungarian  spirit  in 

Remenyi's  playing. 

Habanera    suggested  by  rus- 
tling palm  leaves,  64,  128 
Hartford  Daily  Times  (quoted), 

234,  235 
Hathaway,  George,  206 
Haydn's  national  feeling,  142 
Hayes,  President  and  Mrs.,  124 
Helmrich, — ,    of  Hamburg,    81 
Hesketh,  — ,    violin  -  maker     of 

Columbus,  Ohio,  57 
Hindu  music,  as  written  of  by 

Remenyi,  147-155 
Hoffmann,     parental    name    of 

Remenyi,  9 
Hollander,  Alexander,  107 


KLE 

"Home,  Sweet  Home,"  138, 
139 

Hugo,  Victor,  as  friend  of  Re- 
menyi, 33,  45,  46,  63,  75,  III, 
112. 

"  Hungaria,"  Liszt,  17 

"  Hungarian  Concerto,"  Joachim, 
17 

"Hungarian  Dances,"  Brahms, 
17,  91-94 

Hungarian  spirit  in  Remenyi's 
playing,  215,  229,  233 

Ingersoll,  Robert  G.,  48,  107, 

203-210 
Isaye's  appreciation  of  Remenyi, 

52,53 
Italian  Renaissance,  160-162 
Italian  school  concert,  125,  126 

Japanese  art,  165, 166 
Jealousy  no  part  of  Remenyi's 

character,  42,  70 
Jewish  descent  and  religion  of 

Remenyi,  9,  55,  56 
Joachim,  Joseph,  10,  12,  13,  85, 

90 
"John  Anderson,  my  Jo,"  137 
Josefify,  Rafael,  107 
Jotis,  Theodore,  107 

Karoly,  Horerath,  Tj 

King  George   (the  Blind  King), 

12,  80 
Kiss,  John,  107 
Klapka,  General,  45,  126 
Klein,  Bruno  Oscar,  107 
Kleinmann,  Emerson,  107 


252 


INDEX 


KLI 

Klindworth,  Karl,  1 5 
Kossuth,  Louis,  10,  109,  123,  244 
Kovas,  Vilmos,  107 
"Kritik  der  Tonwerke,"  Fuchs, 
25 

"Z«  Cruche  Cassie,'"  Greuze,  182 

"Legend  of  Saint  Elizabeth, 
The,"  Liszt,  17 

Lehman,  Sam,  conductor  of 
orchestra  at  Remenyi's  fun- 
eral, 107 

Leipziger  Illustrirte  Zeitung 
(quoted),  126,  127 

Lenox  Lyceum,  New  York 
scene  of  Remenyi's  funeral, 
107 

"  Lieder  ohne  Worte,"  Mendels- 
sohn, 142 

Linguist,  Remenyi  a,  113, 114 

Liszt,  Franz,  12-19,   45,  87-90, 

245 

Literary  style  affected  by  Re- 
menyi, 27,  67,  112 

London  Examiner  (quoted),  213- 
215 

London,  (7M^  (quoted),  215,  216 

London  Times  (quoted),  216, 217 

Luckstone,  Isadore,  107 

Lupot,  French  violin-maker,  180 

Lzechenip,  — ,  Hungarian  states- 
man, 45 

Maggini  violins,  178-181 
Magyar  music,  16 
Mapleson  concert,  London,  213- 
215 


NAT 

"  Marseillaise,"  139 

Marxsen, ,Brahms's  teacher 

in  counterpoint,  84 

Mason,  William,  pupil  of  Liszt, 
14,89 

Mathias  Corvinus,  Statute  to,  64, 
128 

Matthews,  W.  S.  B.,  15 

McCollum,  Miss  Annie,  vocalist 
232 

McKinley,  President,  49 

McMillan,  Emerson,  107 

Mehlig,  Anna,  pianist,  25 

Melba's  acquaintance  with  Re- 
menyi, 20,  123 

Memory,  Remenyi  possessed  re- 
tentive, 114 

Miners'  demonstration  over  Re- 
menyi's playing,  118,  119 

Monroe  Doctrine,  168 

Moorish  civilization  in  Spain, 
157,158 

Murls  of  Weimar,  15 

Murphy,  Sylvester  A.,  107 

"Music,"  edited  by  W.  S.  B. 
Matthews,  15 

Music,  as  written  of  by  Re- 
menyi, 133,  134 

Music  in  the  United  States  and 
Europe,  comparatively  con- 
sidered, 245 

Music  Trade  Review  (quoted), 
232-234 

Musical  Trade  Review  (quoted), 
232 

National  hymn  composed  by 
Remenyi,  64,  65 


INDEX 


253 


NAT 

National  Music  in  the  United 

States,  53,  54;  in  general,   136- 

144 
Natural     scenery     in     United 

States,  170,  171 
"Neue    Bahnen,"     by    Robert 

Schumann,  13,  80,90 
Neue    Zeitschrift  fur    Musik 

(Leipsic),  13,  80,  90 
Neuendorf,  Adolph,    conductor 

of  New   York    Philharmonic 

Society,  232,  245 
Neustadt,  Sigmund,  107 
New    York   Evening    Express 

(quoted),  219,  221 
New  York  Herald  (quoted),  79- 

95,  loi,  102,  107, 108,  223,  224, 

226,  227 
New  York  Musical  Times  (quot- 
ed), 221-223 
New  York  State-house,  164 
New  York  Sun  (quoted),  121 
New  York  Times  (quoted),  217- 

219 
New  York  Tribune  (quoted),  224- 

226 
Niagara  Falls,  174  ^ 

Niblo's  Garden,  First    concert 

at,  11,123,243 
Niles    (Mich.):    incident  which 

occurred  at  concert,  115 

"Othello,"  keynote  of,  143, 144 

Paganini's    compositions,  231, 

234 
Pal,  Olah,  soloist  at  Remenyi's 

funeral  services,  108 


RAC 

Palms,  Remenyi's  love  for,  47, 
63,  127-129 

"  Palms,  The,"  Remenyi's  Haba- 
nera, 64,  128 

Paris  Opera  House,  163 

Patriotism  of  Remenyi,  g,  96, 
97,  108,  156,  167 

Personal  appearance  of  Re- 
menyi, 26,  118,  217,  223,  228, 
230,  234,  238 

Perzel,  William,  107 

Petofi,  Alexander,  and  statue 
to  his  memory  in  Budapest, 
28,40,97,  113 

Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin 
(quoted),  240,  241 

Plotenyi,  Ferdinand,  126,  127 

Plotenyi  Nardor,  friend  and 
pupil  of  Remenyi,  74 

Popular  Music,  as  written  of  by 
Remenyi,  135-146 

Practice,  Remenyi's  dependence 
upon,  37,  52,  70,  74 

"Pretty"  melodies,  145 

Prince  Albert  Edward  and  Re- 
menyi, 124 

Programme  of  Remenyi's  first 
concert  in  the  United  States, 

243 
Pyramid  of   Cheops,    Remenyi 

played  upon  summit  of,  1 26 
Pyrker,  Archbishop,  benefactor 

of  Remenyi  in  his  youth,  44 

Queen  Victoria  honored  Re- 
menyi, 17,  18, 46,  124 

"  Racokzy  March,"  140 


254 


INDEX 


RAK 

Rakos-Palota,  near  Pesth,  Re- 

menyi's  home,  T],  78 
Rembrandt,  182,  183 
Remenyi,  Tibor,  son  of  Edouard 

Remenyi,  122 
Repertory  played  by  Remenyi, 

215,  222 
"  Rhapsodies  Hongroises,"  Liszt, 

17 
Rice,  Isaac,  148 

Ringelmann,  Professor,  conduc- 
tor   of    Hungarian    Singing 
Society,  108 
Rive-King,  Julia,  pianist,  236 
Riverside  Drive,  New  York,  163 
Riviere  concert,  London,  215-217 
"Romeo  and    Juliet"  (Berlioz), 

Remenyi's  playing  of,  'j^ 
Rouget  de  1'  Isle,    composer    of 
the  "Marseillaise,"  139 


Sand,  George,  45 

Sarasate,  Spanish  violinist,  43, 44 

Sardor,  Count  Teleki,  fellow  ex- 
ile with  Remenyi,  75 

Scharfenberg,  William,  pianist 
and  violinist,  11,  243,  244 

Schmidt,  Val.,  maker  of  death- 
mask,  106 

Schubert's  national  feeling,  141 

Schumann,  Robert,  13,  14,  80, 
90,  91,  141 

Schurz,  Hon.  Carl,  presented 
Remenyi  with  watch,  114 

"Scots,  Wha  Hae,"  137 

Seidl  in  concert  at  Metropolitan 
Opera  House,  207-209 


THO 

Shakespeare,  Remenyi's  com- 
ments on,  143, 144 

"  Silent,  O  Moyle,"  138 

Singer,  Otto,  25 

Sivori,  — ,  227 

Sommers,  Dr.  Leo,  musical 
director  at  Remenyi's  funeral 
services,  108 

Sousa,  John  Philip,  107 

South  Bend  (Ind.)  ladies  present- 
ed Remenyi  with  watch,  114 

Spain's  national  policy,  157-159 

"  Spree,"  Remenyi's  definition 
of,  129 

Stephani,  Mme.,  vocalist,  11, 
243,  244 

Stockinger,  Consul  General 
Francis,  107 

Stradivarius  violins,  1 78-1 81 

Sweetness  a  quality  of  Re- 
menyi's playing,  220,  224,  227, 
231,  235-241 

Swing,  Professor  David,  58,  59 

Szekely,  Imre,  pianist,  28 


Technique  of  Remenyi,  23,  43, 

71,  208,220,  228, 231-241 
Tesla,  Nikola,  208 
"The  Campbells  are  Coming," 

137 
"The  Harp  that  Once  Through 

Tara's  Halls,"  138 
"  The  Last  Rose  of  Summer,"  137 
"  The  Servant  Girl,"  Rembrandt, 

182 
Thomas,  Ludomir,  composer  of 

Remenyi's  funeral  march,  107 


INDEX 


255 


THO 

Thomas,  Theodore,   19,  25,  232, 

237,  245 
Thompson,  Cesar,  23,  43,  70,  71 
Timm,  H.  C,  pianist,  11,  243,  244 
Toledo  (Ohio)  concert,  iig,  120 

"  Ungarische  Tanze,"  Brahms, 
17 

Untalented    children    of   great 

men,  63 
Urso,  Camilla,  violinist,  221 

Variations  on  the  "  Carnival  of 

Venice,"  141 
Vaudeville  engagements  of  Re- 

menyi,  21,  67,  68,  103 
Violinists,  Famous,  51 
Violins,  Remenyi's    knowledge 

and  care  of,  35,  68,  98,   119, 

178-181 
Vogrich,  Max,  25,95,  io7i  i99 
Von  Herbeck,  Johann,  16 


YOU 

Waffelghern,  M.  Von,  44 
Washington  and  Lord  Fairfax, 

168,  169 
Watches  presented  to  Remenyi, 

114 
Welcome  given  Remenyi  on  his 

return  to  Hungary,  122, 123 
Wells,  F.  Marion,    artist    who 

made  bust  of  Remenyi,  106 
White,  Joseph,  violinist,  221 
Wieniawski,  — ,  violinist,  221 
Wilhelmj,  — ,  violinist,  23,    223, 

225,  226,  228,  229,  234,  237- 

239 

Winchester  (Va.),  sketch  sug- 
gested to  Remenyi  by  visit  to, 
168,  169,  196 

Wrecks,  202 

"Ye  Banks  and  Braes,"  137 
Young  artists  always  granted  a 
hearing  by  Remenyi,  71, 120 


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